Salvation
by Tosca1390
Summary: Possessed by her inner demons, Ginny has no one to turn to but Harry as the Second War races to its climatic end. As she suffers under Tom's wrath, Harry struggles to find a way to aid her. Can good finally defeat evil? chapter six revision
1. Rebellion

Author's Note: Welcome to the first installment of the sequel to _The Year of Secrets_! Hopefully you have all read that story before beginning here, so I won't launch into a detailed explanation of where we are right now. Enjoy! ^^

Chapter One: Rebellion

~*~

In reality, Harry Potter was not a complex boy. Of course, he had his secrets and his problems, both frivolous and serious, but when it came down to it, he was quite simple. He was a boy in love with a girl who happened to be possessed by his arch-enemy, an enemy he would have to kill to save her and the wizarding world. Oh, and he lived with relatives, who detested the sight of him, because his mother's sacrifice for him had gave him protection until he was a legal wizard. Not to mention the fact his godfather had died a year ago trying to save him from death. 

Well, Harry thought as he plopped onto his rickety bed, maybe not quite so normal.

He had only been back with the Dursleys for less than two hours, and already he was sick of being in their house. Not even two minutes after he stepped in the house, Vernon had put him to work making their supper. Now, after making the meal, watching them eat it, and cleaning up after them, he was finally up in his room, lying face-up on the dusty bed, and watching his owl fly around the room unhappily. He hadn't bothered to unpack; what was the point? He wasn't staying any longer than he had to. 

Closing his eyes, Harry settled upon the very welcome yet very confusing thought of Ginny Weasley. Was she his girlfriend? No, not technically. But she still wore his ring, and she had given him a kiss at the station only a few hours ago. Why? He had been under the impression that she had wanted to keep their contact at a minimum because of her problem with Voldemort, and he had understood that. 

But then she had to go and kiss him. 

Granted, it was only a kiss on the cheek, but it was skin to skin contact none the less. And it was driving him insane. 

Maybe there was hope after all. 

Heavy footsteps sounded near his closed door, and Harry rolled his eyes. Vernon and Petunia had been eying his with displeasure since they saw Ginny kiss him, and he had no doubt that Dudley was extremely curious and very angry with Harry; somehow Harry doubted any girl would come within kissing distance of his whale-like cousin, and he reckoned that Dudley was slightly jealous of him. 

A smirk crossed his face at that thought. Dudley, jealous of him? It was something to treasure.

The footsteps went back and forth outside his door in a way Harry assumed Dudley thought was secretive; in reality, no one except the extremely hard of hearing would be able to miss the lumbering sound. Hedwig hooted indignantly at the disruption, and the sounds halted abruptly. Trying not to laugh out loud, Harry shook his head and stood up. With quick steps, he was at the door and glancing down at Dudley. Amusement swelled in him; he had grown another few inches at Hogwarts, making him a good five inches taller than Dudley.

"Can I help you, Dudley?" Harry asked casually, leaning against the doorframe. 

Dudley glared at him, face as red as his father's was not too long ago. "That girl in the station; who was she?" he demanded, straightening as best as he could to counter Harry's surprising height. 

Harry shrugged. "Does it really matter to you? Stop haunting my door; my bird's getting annoyed with you," he said coolly, moving to go inside and shut the door. 

"You must be paying her bunches if she's banging you. Is she a mail-order whore? I thought they came prettier than that," Dudley sneered as Harry turned his back. 

Harry's first reaction to the anger blasting through him was to calm down, straighten his back, and walk away from Dudley without a word. After all, hadn't he taken his taunts with silence for a long time before this summer? Yes, that was the sensible thing to do. 

_Then again,_ he thought, _I am leaving in a month. __Dudley__ could use a good knockout. And, he insulted Ginny. Merlin, that's almost exactly what Malfoy said about her!_

Sighing, Harry turned and swung. 

It was a clean hit, perfectly executed; the training sessions with Remus had helped his technique and skill immensely. Dudley howled as he fell to his knees, holding his bleeding nose and shutting his now-red eye. "You bastard!" he screeched as even heavier footsteps raced up the nearby stairs. 

"Don't be such a wimp, Dudley. You deserved it. Besides, you ought to be used to it, with all the people you fight with at school," Harry said coldly as Vernon ascended the stairs and stopped short, face purpling quite unattractively. 

His beady eyes latched onto Harry, who returned his furious glare with an icy gaze. Vernon drew himself up in what he must have thought was an imposing way, and took a step forward. "What the hell do you think you're doing to my son?" he roared as Petunia's slight figure came into view behind her husband's giant shoulder. 

"Something I should have done a long time ago," Harry replied calmly, leaning against the frame of his door and sticking his hands in the pockets of his jeans. "Why? Would you like one, too?" 

Vernon's face was practically black with fury. "You will respect me when you are in my house, boy! Apologize to my son and get downstairs! You have chores to do!" he yelled, startling both his wife and son with his tone. 

Harry raised an eyebrow in the wake of this explosion. "I think Dudders here can do his own chores. I've done a lifetime's worth of them for him," he said bitterly. He wasn't going to take this abuse anymore. After dealing with it for near seventeen years, he was bone-tired of being ordered around and taunted and having to take it without retaliation. 

Taking another step towards him, Vernon shook his fist at him. "How dare you speak to me that way! After we've fed you-"

Harry snorted. "Barely."

"Clothed you, provided for you—"

"You can stop now. You haven't done a thing for me except torture me. I won't be here for long. Don't bother me," Harry interjected coldly, turning back into his room. Glancing at the whimpering Dudley, he glanced back at Vernon. "You might want to tend to his face; he might bleed to death," he commented lightly before going into his room and closing the door.

"Open this door now!" Vernon roared, pounding a fist on the wood. 

What he wouldn't do to be able to cast a wandless spell right now! Damn the Ministry! Harry settled with locking his door manually and headed back to his bed, sitting down with a sudden tiredness. It felt good to finally give back the hell they had given him over the years; now all he had to do was last the month. Grinning, he grabbed a quill, some ink, and parchment from his bag near the bed.   

He had a few triumphant letters to write. 

~*~

Funny, she had thought she would be able to actually sleep, now that Harry wasn't in the same place as she was. 

Ginny groaned quietly, rolling onto her back from her side and staring up at the ceiling of her room. The crickets were chirping, a breeze was blowing softly, it was a beautiful moonlit night, and here she was, tossing and turning at two o'clock in the bloody morning. 

Wouldn't she ever get a break? 

The Burrow was silent as a tomb; not even the ghoul in the attic was clanking around tonight. It was her third night back home, and it was the third night she hadn't slept more than two hours altogether. Her body was about ready to collapse from exhaustion, and yet her eyes would not close. Frustrated, Ginny kicked off the thin blanket, feeling cool air on her legs. Yes, certainly God was a man, if he existed. Why couldn't she sleep? 

Maybe it was because no one had heard from Harry since his departure to his uncle's house, and she was worried sick. 

Or, maybe it was because Tom had taken to haunting her dreams again, and she was afraid to sleep. 

Either way, Ginny was in a bad way. After falling asleep her first night home, Tom had cackled his way back to the front of her mind, telling her just how happy he was she was home. After all, all of her family was involved in the fight against him, weren't they? It would be a wonderful holiday for her. 

She had woken in a cold sweat, head pounding, and didn't fall asleep again that night. After spending the majority of the day in her room or outside away from Ron and her parents, she had tried to sleep again that night. Well, that was no good either, because she had nightmares about Harry being killed. Tom had brought those out, of course. Such a thoughtful friend he was to her. 

So, she had basically given up on sleep for the time being. Her parents, although obviously concerned for her well-being, were leaving her be, reckoning she was still recovering from her ordeal in the Orkneys. Obviously no one had informed them of Tom's still being inside her, which was fine by her; she didn't need her parents turning into possessive maniacs on her, panicking every time she left the house. 

Sitting up in her bed, she sighed, twisting the ring on her finger out of habit. She had taken to doing this when thinking, as if it would amplify any brilliant thoughts she might have. Her parents had raised eyebrows when they saw it on her hand after she had kissed Harry in Kings Cross, but said nothing. Ron had just grinned at her, having just given Hermione a more thorough kiss in farewell. 

Frowning slightly, she leaned her head against the wall her bed was pushed against. Really, it was just an innocent kiss on the cheek! 

But it had been pulsing with hope, drowning her in the idea that someday they would be able to be together without worrying about a maniacal Dark Lord, and maybe the ring on her finger would mean more than just a ring. 

That hope she had felt so strongly had dissipated her first night home, and now she felt nothing but anger and frustration. All she wanted to bloody do was sleep! 

A quiet hoot sounded outside her window, and she glanced towards it. An owl perched on the sill, letters on its legs, snow-white feathers gleaming in the soft moonlight. Ginny had to smile as she got off her bed and headed towards the owl. At least one of her fears was subdued. 

"Hello Hedwig," she cooed softly, stroking the owl's soft wing as she pulled the letters from her leg. "Do you want a rest?"

Ruffling her feathers, Hedwig sailed into the room, perching on Ginny's small writing desk across from the bed. Ginny grinned and returned to the bed, looking at the letters in her hand. One was for Ron; she put it aside, promising to slide it under his door in the morning. The other had her name scrawled across the front in Harry's messy script, which was quite like his hair when she thought about it. Opening the letter, she sat back and began to read. 

_Dear Ginny, _

_Hope you're doing well under the circumstances. Has anything happened to you since I last saw you? A lot can happen in less than three hours._

_I know I really can't say anything to you, because you'll either burn this letter right now or have a guilty conscience for the rest of your life, but I just thought I'd write to you anyway. I can't just ignore, can I? I think your brothers would stone me. _

_Well, I can tell you one thing: I told off the Dursleys this afternoon. Vernon is banging on my door right now, trying to make me come out by yelling up a storm. I'm surprised the neighbours haven't come by to see what's going on. But, I digress. Yes, I told the lot of them off; even gave __Dudley__ a black eye and a busted nose. Kind of a rebellion, in my opinion; the oppressed resisting the oppressors. Only a month more, and then I can leave this place for good. I can't tell you why, but it's the truth. I will tell you soon, though. _

_Hermione's been really working on ways to help you out; she told me Dumbledore is going to let her come back to Hogwarts for a few days during holiday to use the library's resources. And when Hermione starts looking for something, you know she'll find it. I'm looking in all my books as well. We're going to help you out, Ginny. I promised you that, and I never break my promises. _

_Keep in touch somehow, all right? I don't want to be exiled from you forever. _

_Love, Harry_

_P.S.—Thanks for the farewell at the station. I only wish I could have returned the favor. _

Blushing, she glanced at the snowy owl perched silently on her desk. It was nice to know he was finally standing up for himself; she had always hoped he would. It's not like Dudley had any looks to worsen to begin with; Harry probably improved them. 

It was too much to hope right now that he or Hermione would find something for her; she wasn't going to excite herself for nothing. Merlin, she wished she could see Harry right now! Somehow she reckoned having him near her would help her fall asleep.  

Glancing down at the letter, she reread the third paragraph. Oppressed resisting the oppressors; she liked that. She liked that a lot. 

_Well, if it isn't dear Harry writing you a letter, __Virginia__. Shame he didn't give a return address; I have always wondered where he lived during the summer. _

Shutting her eyes, Ginny let out a sharp, brief cry of frustration. Tom was back, it seemed. And here she was thinking she might get a break from him tonight. 

Oppressed resisting the oppressors. 

Hmm.

Setting the letter on her pillow, she placed Ron's letter on the floor before grabbing her thin blanket and lying back down on her bed. By Merlin, she was going to get a somewhat decent night's rest tonight! Tom had too much control on her already; why should he control her sleeping habits too? 

_Don't you try to sleep, __Virginia__. I can stop you at any- _

Shoving him with great force from the front of her mind, she closed her eyes and settled down on the pillow. One small victory could mean a bigger one later in the fight. All she had to do was keep her faith in Harry; he would pull through for her. 

*

Waking early in the morning, as was her now-usual custom, Ginny had slipped the letter under Ron's door as soon as she woke. She had managed a few hours of sleep, which had left her quite cheerful and Rom quite irritated. He was still pushed to the back of her mind, which was a small rebellion for her. Pleased with herself, she had gone back to her room to wait for her parents to wake up; she was going to take this Tom-free opportunity for everything she could get out of it. 

The smell of sausages frying roused her from her room, and as she went down the rickety stairs, she was surprised to hear Ron's voice in the kitchen. He usually milked his summer mornings for all their worth, sleeping in until ten, or even noon on some occasions. But he was in there, voice raised in astonishment as he spoke to his parents. Halting at the foot of the stairs, she listened for a brief moment, wondering what would have Ron so riled up at nine in the morning. 

"He finally told them off, Mum! It sounded amazing! And, you know why he always has to go back there? Because when he's in the same house as his mum's bloodline, You-Know Who can't get him! I think he said it ends when he becomes a legal wizard, but I can't be sure. Can you believe that?" Ron exclaimed as Ginny gasped, hands clapping to her mouth in horror. 

_Interesting. Very interesting. July 31, isn't it, Virginia? _

Turning quickly, Ginny raced up the stairs and back to her room. She shut the door with a loud slam, causing the ghoul in the attic to begin his rattling again. Heart pounding painfully against her ribs, she sank to the floor, back leaning against the door. Tom's words echoed in her thoughts; she could almost hear his plans come to life inside her own mind.  

So much for her little rebellion; she was right back where she started. 

~*~

A week after his arrival at the Dursleys, Harry woke up to find Remus Lupin sitting in his room, Hedwig on his shoulder and a smile on his face. He looked almost happy, which was odd for Remus. The youth seemed to have returned to his face in a way; lines were softened, and there was color to his skin. Harry grinned, sitting up and rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "Fancy seeing you here. Did you sneak in, or did the Dursleys let you up?" he asked. 

Remus chuckled lightly. "Oh, they let me in; I think they're petrified of you now since your little rebellion. That cousin of yours still has a black eye, and I think his nose is a bit off-center," he commented as Harry got out of bed and headed for his tiny wardrobe. 

"Good. They should be petrified of me. Somehow, I know I'll have trouble not hexing them all into oblivion on my birthday," Harry said as he pulled out a shirt and slipped it over his head. 

"Please try not to," Remus said with a slight amount of trepidation. 

Harry laughed shortly. "I was only kidding. I won't even stay to say goodbye.  By 12:01, I'll be gone."

Nodding, Remus sent Hedwig to her cage with a wave of his hand. "And how do you expect to do that?"

Shrugging, Harry went over and fed Hedwig an owl treat. "I'm not sure. I'll walk to the Burrow if I have to."

"No one will be there. The Weasleys will be moving to Grimmauld Place, as will you. It's safer that way," Remus said as Harry sat on the end of his bed. 

"Is someone going to come get me then?" Harry asked, the wheels of his mind turning quickly. 

Remus' smile widened. "Now we come to my first order of business: I'm going to teach you how to Apparate."

Eyes wide, Harry gaped at his friend. "D'you expect me to be able to Apparate from Little Whinging to London? In one shot?" he asked, bewildered. 

"Not without a break. You'll Apparate to Tonks' place, which is about half-way between here and London. Then you and she will finish the trip together. We'd all come and get you like last year, but we don't want to make a big deal out of this; Voldemort has become increasingly more active since the incident in the Orkneys," Remus explained quietly. 

Harry digested this for a moment, feeling like he was forgetting some piece of this puzzle; he was going to Apparate to Tonks', then they were going to go straight to headquarters to join the Weasleys. It all sounded right, except for one thing. 

"What about Ginny? She can't go to Grimmauld Place, unless Dumbledore has found something to help her already," he said suddenly, watching as Remus went pale. 

"You're right," Remus muttered, standing and beginning to pace. "Why didn't Albus think of that?"

Harry watched him go back and forth in front of him, stomach clenching unhappily. "Don't her parents know why Voldemort wanted her?" he asked incredulously. 

Remus shook his head. "No. Albus didn't tell them at Ginny's request. She doesn't want them to know."

"But she can't do that! What if someone slips something about the Order to her? Voldemort could find out our plans!" Harry exclaimed, standing and facing Remus. "You have to go talk to her and tell her to tell her parents; say I sent you if she tries to hex you." 

Remus put his hand on Harry's shoulder. "Don't worry, Harry; Albus will figure something out for her. It's possible she may go to Hogwarts; she'll be safe there," he said calmly. 

Sitting back down on his bed, Harry frowned deeply. It just didn't seem right for Ginny not to tell her parents about what happened to her. In Ron's return letter, which he had gotten yesterday, Ron said that Ginny was keeping to herself a lot, which made Harry think she knew what kind of a danger she posed to her family. Running a hand through his hair, Harry sighed silently. She hadn't answered his letter yet; he desperately wanted to hear from her, even it was only one word.

"I think you'll want to hear my other piece of news, Harry."

Remus' voice was subdued, which startled Harry out of his thoughts. Looking up, he saw a sign of weariness coming back to the older man's face. "What is it?" he asked. 

Sighing, Remus sat back down. "Draco Malfoy escaped from his guards a few days ago; our sources say he's gone back to Voldemort and his father." 

Rage boiled in Harry's veins; the urge to commit violence was quite strong within his mind. "I should have killed him when I had the chance," he growled. 

"Something tells me you'll have the chance again, Harry. Don't go looking for a chance to act; it will come faster than you think," Remus said, standing and pulling out his wand. "Our lessons will start tomorrow. I will go speak to Albus about Ginny right now."

Harry gave a little wave as Remus Disapparated with a pop, and fell back on his bed with a sigh. Summer looked wonderful already.   

~*~

She had been dreading this for months, and now it looked like her fears were about to come to fruition. 

Albus Dumbledore and Remus Lupin were in the house, talking to her parents. 

About her. 

The second she had heard her mother greet the visitors by name, Ginny had scrambled down the lattice outside her window and raced to the shed. Grabbing her broom, she had flown off to the secluded opening in the woods near her home to escape. In hindsight, it might not have been the best place to go, considering it was where she had shared her first kiss with Harry, but anywhere else she would have been found. Even as she flew over the tops of the trees, she could see Ron running back and forth from the house, calling for her. She wouldn't answer, only dip below the tree-line to avoid being seen. 

Her parents' days of ignorant bliss were over; she just knew Dumbledore and Lupin were telling them the real reasons why Voldemort had taken her in May. Whatever the reason for this revelation, she didn't care; she was going to kill whoever thought of telling them. Now they would be breathing down her necks for the rest of the summer, and when Harry came to stay...

It would be her personal hell on Earth.

Sighing, she dived towards the ground, pulling up recklessly and narrowly avoiding a tree branch. Her thinking was purely selfish, and a part of her was horrified; her whole family could be in danger because of her, and she was acting like a spoiled brat whose teddy bear had been taken away from her! 

But could she be faulted? Nobility only sustained a person for so long; she had given into herself when she had kissed Harry in the changing rooms back at school. Oddly enough, that was the time when Tom had been effectively silenced from her mind.

_"Ah yes, that kiss; I thought I was foiled then."_

Hadn't Tom said something to her while she was being tortured? She couldn't quite recall back then. 

_"There is a way to stop me other than killing me. And you almost found it." _

Stopping in mid-air, she pondered on those words as a slight breeze floated through the trees. The sun beat down on her as she thought. Why would he say that the kiss almost foiled him? She was so close to something, so close she could taste it...

_Do you think your parents will disown you, Virginia? I can only imagine the shame they'll feel; their only girl possessed once again by the Dark Lord. _

The interruption jarred her train of thought, and she shook her head, struggling vainly to shove Tom from her mind. Ever since Harry's letter had arrived almost two weeks ago, Tom had kept a strong grip on her mind, forcing her not to reply to his letter, even briefly. She had no idea if Tom could take control of her actions, and didn't want to risk it. 

How was she supposed to stop Tom from taking her over when Harry came? His birthday was less than three weeks away; she was running out of options. Wasn't there an easy solution to this inner monologue in her head? 

Of course not. She didn't even know what the word "easy" meant. 

"Ginny?"

She looked down and saw Remus Lupin standing at the edge of the clearing, hand shading his eyes from the sun. With a reluctant sigh, she flew down to him, touching her feet to the ground about ten feet in front of him. When she looked at him, he seemed pleased to see her, and he looked happier than she had ever seen him before. Curiosity ate at her; she knew he had seen Harry, and it was all she could do not to ask about him. 

He gazed at her kindly. "Your parents wanted you to know that dinner will be at six," he said softly. 

His words took her by surprise, and she gaped slightly. "What? That's all? Didn't you tell them?" she asked incredulously. 

"Yes, we did. But they understand why they can't really talk to you, and so they won't ask you any questions," he explained as she came closer to him. 

She pondered his words for a moment. "How did they take it?" she asked, voice almost timid. 

He smiled slightly. "They were upset, naturally, but they're more concerned for you. You should tell them how you are tonight, even if it is a lie," he said wryly.

Biting her lip, she looked up at him. The urge to ask about Harry was killing her, but she wouldn't say a word. The relief at her parents' reactions was immense, and she felt slightly better about being alive than she had this morning. 

Remus glanced at her, and his smile widened. "He wants to see you very badly," he commented quietly, reading the question in her eyes. 

Desire rushed through her like a flame, and she smiled at her professor for the first time in a long while. "Really?"

"Yes, and he'd like to know if you got his letter," he said. 

She nodded, tightening her grip on her broom. "I did."

He raised an eyebrow at her. "Any reply?"

Hesitating, she looked down at her feet. Both Remus and her mind were silent as she thought. What could she say to the man who had tried to sacrifice himself for her life? 

Looking up, she knew her answer. It rebelled against all her common sense, but it was the only thing she could say. 

"Tell him I love him," she said softly.

~*~

As he appeared with a pop at Remus' side, Harry grinned widely at his father's friend. "Did she really say that?" he asked eagerly. 

Remus rolled his eyes. "Do you think I would lie to you, Harry? Yes, of course she really said it. I've told you at least ten times today."

Harry sighed, and looked up at the cloudless sky above them through tree branches and leaves. The lessons with Remus were a stress-reliever for him, as they got him out of the Dursleys' house. Today's was even better; Remus had brought news of Ginny.

"Come on, Harry, get ready; we're going to duel," Remus said impatiently, walking a little ways off. The deserted woods by Hogsmeade were perfect for the training Harry was going through, and it was cool, protected from the sun by the tall trees all around. 

"No more Apparation today?" Harry asked as he adjusted the grip on his wand. 

Remus shook his head, a small smile on his face. "You have it down. We'll do a distance test tomorrow. Now we need to work on your dueling."

Harry waited for Remus to make his move. "How did she look?" he called after a moment, just as the older man opened his mouth. 

With an exasperated sigh, Remus shrugged. "She looked fine; I don't think she's been sleeping much, but other than that she looked the same as when you saw her at Kings Cross. _Stupefy!_"

With a quiet word, Harry cast a wandless Shield Charm and rolled to his side, throwing a Jelly-Legs Curse at Remus. The older man ducked, but wasn't quick enough to avoid Harry's wandless Body-Bind, which he had cast at the same time as his Jelly-Legs Curse. Stiffly, Remus fell to the ground. Sighing, Harry walked over and reversed the spell. "Sorry," he said sheepishly as he helped his friend up. 

Remus rubbed his arm with a dry smile. "Don't be sorry; it was a good idea to use both your wand and your wandless magic at the same time," he said. 

"Have any arrangements been figured out for her?" Harry asked. 

"She'll go to Hogwarts when you move to Grimmauld Place and then stay in Diagon Alley the two days prior to September 1st. Hermione will be at Hogwarts when Ginny arrives; Albus has given her a week's free reign in the library to search for anything that could help Ginny," Remus said quickly, brushing the dirt from his clothes. 

Harry frowned. "Does Ginny know that?"

Remus shook his head. "She won't find out until it's time for her to go; it's safer that way."

A wry chuckle escaped Harry's mouth. "I would love to see her reaction to that; she's going to rebel like no one else," he said fondly. 

"I'm just glad I don't have to take care of it; Albus is going to do that part," Remus said briskly. He then motioned to Harry with a wave of his wand. "Shall we try again?"

Harry walked back to his side of the wood and prepared to duel again, even though his whole mind was concentrated on the thought of Ginny. The hope that had wavered in the two weeks since he had sent his letter was burning as brightly as ever; she had told Remus to tell him she loved him. With those words, he felt like he could do anything. 

~*~

A/N: So, how many are still with me? Please read and review. Many thanks to my beta Anne, who keeps the world going round. The teddy bear is dedicated to you! ^.^


	2. Fire and Ash

Chapter Two: Fire and Ash

~*~

The night of July 30 was one of trepidation for Ginny, as she knew Tom was up to something that concerned Harry. Her only problem, as she retreated into her room for another sleepless night, was that she had no idea what he could be planning. He never told her specifics; teasing her with torturing tidbits was his game, a game he enjoyed immensely. A bystander in her own mind, she tried to ignore him as best as possible as she went through her days. He didn't speak constantly; it was only when she was having a nice time that he liked to drop in and interject. 

Since her parents had been told, they had been respecting her privacy so much that she almost wondered if they were afraid of her. She still tinkered with Muggle objects with her father from time to time and helped in the kitchen when her mother requested it, but these times were usually silent. She didn't mind; they would always hug her, or do something like it to show her they still cared about her, so she wasn't worried about her parents so much. 

Ron was a different story; he was always trying to talk to her, draw her out of the walls surrounding her. At times, she let him talk about whatever he wanted to, but usually she raced back into her room to solitude, leaving him shaking his head after her. Once he had attempted to mention Harry, but she had smacked him and that had put a stop to that. 

Silence was all that had existed between her and Harry since she gave her message to Remus. She wanted it that way; if Harry was to write her again, she had no idea if she would be able to resist replying. In the silence of her room, she sometimes thought of how it would be when he would be in the house twenty-four/seven and panicked, much to the amusement of Tom. 

Now, as night's quiet finally settled on the Burrow, she was wide awake, sitting at her window and gazing out onto the moonlit lawn. Chin in hand, she let her eyes sweep the sky lazily, as if she was expecting a lone figure to come diving out of the stars and into her room. Her mind was oddly quiet, and she wondered if Harry was keeping the same nighttime vigil as she. She knew from past conversations that he always stayed up to see the first minutes of his birthday; was he looking out his window just as she was, counting down the minutes in anticipation? In less than three hours, he could leave Privet Drive and never look back. 

Suddenly, cold swept over her like a dead weight; she felt like she was spinning down into darkness, taking her consciousness with her. Valiantly, she struggled inside herself, but it was to no avail; the fire in her eyes died as she lost her grip on herself, darkness taking her into its grasp. 

*

His toes tapped impatiently as he sat on the edge of his bed, a bed he had long outgrown. Eyes locked onto the clock across from him, he watched as the hours ticked away. Throughout the day, he had packed and unpacked his trunk tens of times to pass the time, and now he only had less than an hour to wait. In less than an hour, he could leave this hellhole and start his real life, a life he had waited for years to arrive. 

Briefly, he thought of Ginny; was she at Hogwarts yet? Was she safe? Did she miss him as much as he missed her? There were so many questions that he had and so many answers yet to find. He had searched for hours for Ginny's saving grace, but never found it. He could only hope that Hermione would have better luck than he. 

The minutes ticked by; Harry watched his clock with an intensity never seen before. Soon, he only had ten minutes to go before he could Apparate away and never look back. 

*

Someone was shaking her as she came to on the floor of her bedroom, moonlight illuminating a small patch of floor next to her head. Hands grasped her shoulders and pulled her to her feet. Swaying on her legs, she held onto the strong arms as her eyes fluttered open, head pounding. 

"Ginny! What happened? Are you all right?" Ron's worried face came into focus as her equilibrium returned. 

It was still night, she realized, and Ron was fully dressed. His trunk was by her open door. She looked at him in confusion, searching her mind for her actions. "I... I don't know. Why are you dressed?" she asked, finding the edge of her bed and sitting down heavily. 

Looking flustered, he stood over her. "Well, it's time for us to go," he said evasively. 

Her eyes widened; had she forgotten about this? "Why didn't anyone tell me?" she exclaimed. 

"Because we couldn't, could we?" he retorted, pulling her to her feet again. "Come on; Dumbledore is downstairs waiting for you. We've been calling you for the last couple minutes. Why were you on the floor?" 

She let him pull her along without a fight, feeling oddly empty. "I don't remember," she said softly. 

Ron shot a curious glance at her. "Well, you were in my room about an hour ago, asking me about Harry and all. What made you do that?" 

Halting suddenly, she lifted a hand to her mouth in shock. With a realization quick as fire's spread, she gasped. The cold feeling... The blank memory...

_I had no idea Harry's relatives lived so close to my current headquarters, __Virginia__. Thank your brother for his help, won't you?_

Her breath came out in a horrified exhale. "Oh Merlin," she murmured, feeling Ron's insistent tug on her arm. 

"Ginny, what is going on with you? Bloody hell, we've got to go!" he exclaimed. 

"Ron! Ron, what are you shouting about?" Mrs. Weasley called up the stairs in an irritated tone. 

Pulling herself from her brother's grasp, Ginny clutched the skirts of her nightgown and raced downstairs into the living room. Dumbledore was there, waiting patiently and almost looking anxious as she skidded to a stop, Ron close behind her. "Where's Harry?" she asked breathlessly, glancing at the grandfather clock. Her mother had Harry's name added after Ginny had come home from school, and while all the other Weasleys were safe, his arm was slowly moving from 'Relatives' to the other side of the clock. 

"He should be at his relatives' home, Miss Weasley," Dumbledore said quietly. "If you would stand by me-"

Ginny shook her head, watching the clock as if she was hypnotized. Harry's arm kept moving, past 'Home', 'School', and 'Work' to stop directly over 'Mortal Peril'. Her heart dropped to the floor as her mother let out a small scream of terror. 

"Albus! The clock!" 

Looking over at Dumbledore, Ginny watched his face grow ashen as he realized where Harry's hand was pointing. Acting with a speed she thought was beyond a man his age, he reached over and grasped her wrist. "Arthur, Molly; Floo to headquarters. I will take Miss Weasley to her new location. If you see any members, tell them to Apparate to Privet Drive immediately," he commanded quickly. 

"What?" Ginny exclaimed. "What new location?" 

Without answering, Dumbledore pulled out a small box from his robes, placed Ginny's hand on it, and mumbled a few words. Immediately, she felt a sharp jerk near her navel as her family's stricken faces were swept away in a rush of wind and color. 

~*~

When Harry noticed the robed figures walking down the street towards the house, it was already midnight. He had been just about to Apparate to Tonks' flat when the black robes caught his eyes, and he stared out the window in disbelief as they seemed to appear out of nowhere, closing in upon Number Four Privet Drive like moths to a flame. How the hell had they found him? 

Running out of his room, he raced down the hall towards his aunt and uncle's room. Without any hesitation, he opened the door and stepped inside. "Get out of the house!" he shouted, waking his relatives with a start. 

Vernon's face began to become the purple color Harry had seen very often in the past month. "Boy, you get out of here!" he roared. 

"I'm not joking! Get out of the house! There are people trying to kill me coming down the street!" Harry yelled just as loudly, glancing at a paling Petunia. 

Suddenly, there was a sort of explosion on the floor below them, rocking the house. The acrid smell of smoke began wafting up to Harry's nose, and he cursed. "Damn. They're trying to burn us out," he muttered as both Vernon and Petunia rushed out of their room. Vernon headed downstairs as Petunia went to Dudley's room to wake him up. 

"Potter! Come out here or we'll burn you all alive!" A high-pitched voice said from outside, a voice that sounded like the younger Malfoy. Harry's blood boiled, and he raced to his room, levitating his trunk and grabbing his broom before stopping at his bedroom window. Seeing no Death Eaters, he hopped on his broom and dove down to the ground, Hedwig flying out of her cage after him. As he set down on the ground, he turned his astonished eyes to Number Four Privet Drive. 

The whole bottom floor was ablaze, blackening the once immaculate home. He could hear Petunia screaming for Dudley, Vernon screaming for Petunia, and Dudley just screaming as the three of them raced out of the back door into the garden, only a few yards away from him. They stared at their burning home in the same disbelief as he, watching as it crackled to ash. 

"There you are, Potter."

Harry turned to see Draco Malfoy standing near him, wand leveled at his chest. There was a triumphant smirk on his face, a look Harry was determined to wipe off immediately. He dropped his broom and pulled out his wand. "So, Voldemort figured it all out, did he? He must think he's very clever," he said coolly, facing Malfoy completely. 

"He was for remembering the Weasley whore; she was the one who supplied the information for this party. Happy birthday, Potter! So sorry it had to be your last," Malfoy sneered before stiffening his wand arm. "_Petrificus Totalus!" _

Casting a Shield Charm with his wand, Harry used his other hand to cast a Stunning Spell. Malfoy ducked to one side, eyes wide as he realized how Harry had cast the spell. Inside of the usual snide comment Harry expected, he let out a scream of rage and charged. "_Crucio!_"

Rolling to one side, Harry leapt to his feet as Malfoy raced past him. The vicious red light of his curse sped into the bushes, and before Malfoy could turn, Harry used another Stunning Spell with his wand. Rigid, Malfoy dropped to the lawn face-down, completely still. 

With quiet satisfaction, Harry looked at Malfoy's still form, hearing the distant sounds of the house buckling and members of the Order arrive. Neighbors were peering out of their houses, eyes wide as they watched Number Four burn away into the night. Harry could feel the atmosphere change as Death Eaters Disapparated within moments of Order members arriving. Still, he watched Malfoy. 

"I don't care what you say, Malfoy. You'll never make me leave her," he said softly as hurried footsteps sounded behind him. 

"Bloody hell, Harry! What did you do to Malfoy?" Fred Weasley's shocked voice asked as Harry turned. He saw Fred and his twin George behind him, staring at him. Other people were scattered along the street, going up to the neighbors and performing Memory Charms on them as they went. The smell of smoking wood and paint filled the air as the Dursleys' home continued to burn. 

Harry shrugged at Fred. "I only Stunned him," he said as George levitated Malfoy up with his wand. 

Fred grinned; his face was lined with a weariness Harry hadn't seen the last time he had seen Fred in May. "He looks like he's dead."

"Feels like it too," George piped up, putting a finger to Malfoy's pulse point. With a sigh, he put his arm down. "Damn. No such luck."

Patting Harry on the shoulder, Fred led him over to a fretting and ash-covered Tonks. "No worries; maybe the Amazing Bouncing Ferret will make a return appearance," he said lightly as Tonks rushed towards Harry. 

"Oh thank Merlin! I went into the bloody fire to see if you were still in there!" she exclaimed, wrapping Harry in a one-armed embrace. "I found your relatives instead. I think your aunt might remember me from last year; my hair's pink today. Of course, you wouldn't know it with all the damn ash, would you?" she said as she pulled Harry towards the main group of members. "Where's your trunk, Harry?"

Harry nodded towards the lawn. Tonks grinned, wiping a bit of ash from her cheek. Harry could see the roots of shocking-pink hair beneath a blanket of ashes. "No problem; Fred will get it for you," she said, shooting a knowing glance at the redhead in question. 

Frowning good-naturedly, Fred rolled his eyes. "Shall I, then? Merlin, I'm a bloody gopher," he muttered, turning back and heading towards Harry's trunk and broom. 

Hedwig flew at Harry's shoulder as he approached the murmuring wizards. As he was drawn into the circle, he recognized a few people from the Order and from previous knowledge; Charlie Weasley was there, along with Mundungus Fletcher, Remus, Angelina Johnson, and, surprisingly enough, Oliver Wood. 

The former Gryffindor Captain grinned at him as he saw Harry. "Harry! Haven't seen you in a while, eh?" he said as Remus gave Harry a squeeze on the shoulder. 

Charlie glanced Harry's way and gave him a quick smile before turning back to the rest of the group. "Good, we have Harry, then. What are we going to do with the relatives there?" he asked, nodding towards the purpling Dursleys standing a little ways off. 

Remus sighed heavily. "Let Mad-Eye deal with them; I'm sure he'll have something in mind for them. Until then, tell them to go to a hotel."

There was a sudden crack from behind them, and they all turned to face the house. Completely unrecognizable, Number Four was collapsing upon itself, sending a cloud of smoke and ash into the sky as it crumpled. Small flames still flickered in the rubble, and in the midst of the Dursleys' outraged cries, Harry watched a part of his life turn to ash in front of his eyes. He suddenly felt free from the past, free to plan for a future he didn't know if he'd ever see. It was uplifting to see and feel. 

A hand touched his shoulder. "We'd better get you to London. Would you like to try to Apparate, or shall I make you a Portkey?" Tonks asked softly. 

Smiling slightly, Harry glanced at her. "Apparating will be just fine." 

~*~

It took Ginny a few days to become used to the summer silence of Hogwarts, as she became acquainted with her lodgings and her daily schedule. She was completely alone in the castle, except for the professors, and even then she didn't see them too much. 

Having a bit of free reign within the castle, she explored all the places she never had time to at school, visited the kitchens to speak with the house elves, who were always more than happy to talk, and roamed the grounds. Dumbledore had only put a few restrictions upon her: one was she was not to leave the grounds without a member of the Order. Another was she could not visit Professor Snape at any time. She didn't really mind that one too much, even if her opinion of him had gone up in the last few months. Other than that, she had complete freedom, something she hadn't tasted in a long time. 

It was too bad she was bored off her rocker. 

Even Tom was frustrated; he had no source of information, and was getting a bit sick of her constant thoughts of Harry. But what else did she have to think about? She had been embroiled in the fires of guilt ever since her abrupt arrival at Hogwarts on his birthday; she had no idea what Voldemort had done to his relatives' home, and could only hope she hadn't accidentally gotten anyone killed. 

Tonks visited twice in Ginny's first week at Hogwarts. She hadn't been able to speak much to Ginny either time, but she slipped her a note on her way out the second visit. Immediately, Ginny had run up to her room, which was the Gryffindor Head Girl's room, to her pleasure, and all but ripped the note open. 

_Ginny, I'm fine. I don't care what happened; I know it wasn't your fault. Keep your spirits up, love. Ron says he misses you, but I think he just misses your stash of Extendable Ears and Dungbombs. Don't show this note to anyone; I'm not supposed to write you, says Remus. Well, obviously I've never cared for rules, have I? I love you, honestly. Never doubt that. Harry._

The rest of the day, Ginny had gone around with a huge smile on her face that not even Tom's snide remarks could remove.

One day, Dumbledore called her up to his office for afternoon tea, a little over a week after her arrival. She went with a slight amount of trepidation, but when she entered the office, the headmaster was all smiles, two steaming cups of tea sitting on his desk along with a plate of scones. 

"Please, sit down, Miss Weasley," he said cheerfully as she stepped towards his desk. 

Apprehensively, she sat and took a cup of tea in her hand. Inside her mind, she could almost feel Tom lean forward in anticipation, and she resisted the urge to smack her head against the desk. Honestly, as if Dumbledore would be silly enough to tell her anything important when he knew she had someone in her head! 

Dumbledore smiled genially, taking a sip of his tea. "How are you enjoying your stay?" 

"It's fine, sir," she lied through her teeth, averting her eyes. 

A small chuckle left his lips. "There's no need to lie from me, Miss Weasley. I know that you're bored. Fear not; I hope a visitor will do you some good," he said, choosing a scone from the platter and taking a bite after he spoke.

She looked at him curiously, brow furrowed. "Sir, who can I actually talk to?" she asked, a note of bitterness creeping into her tone.

"Well, you can talk to people, Miss Weasley. It's what you talk about that can be a problem. Anyway, Hermione Granger should be arriving within the next few days," he said with a knowing twinkle in his eye. 

Ginny felt her heart lighten somewhat at his words. "Really? How long will she be here?" 

"Oh, A week or so. She wants a bit of time in the library to do some research," he replied casually, taking another sip of his tea.

She grinned, taking a scone. It would be nice to see Hermione; maybe she could pass some messages onto Harry for her. 

The headmaster set his cup down with a quiet clatter, and rested his chin on his fingers. "There is another matter I would like your help with," he said as she took a bit of her scone.

Swallowing quickly, she chased the scone with a bit of tea before speaking. "What's that, sir?"

"I'm in the middle of choosing a Head Boy and Head Girl for next year, and I was wondering if you had any input," he asked cheerfully. 

Ginny could have sworn she was blushing. In her mind, there was no question of who it should be. "Well, obviously Hermione has to be Head Girl," she commented, shooting a glance at the imperturbable headmaster. He merely smiled at her in a non-committal way, and waited for her to proceed. 

Biting her lip in thought, she made a face. "Well," she started slowly, "Harry would be a good choice, as would my brother. But Ron's been a prefect and Harry hasn't. But Ron is Quidditch Captain and Harry's not." 

"A hard choice, to be sure. I assumed you would think of Gryffindors, so who would you pick, Miss Weasley?" Dumbledore asked. 

Brow furrowed, she sighed inwardly. Maybe she was just biased, but Ron was a Prefect and Quidditch Captain...

"Harry, I think. But, doesn't he have to be a Prefect?" she asked with slight confusion. 

Dumbledore smiled benevolently. "Not necessarily. James Potter was Head Boy and he hadn't been a Prefect."

A smile spread on Ginny's face. "I didn't know that," she mused. "I suppose Harry doesn't know that either." 

"I'm sure Hermione will be happy to inform him, if he is chosen. Thank you for joining me for tea, Miss Weasley," Dumbledore said. 

Standing, Ginny smiled at the old man. "You can call me Ginny, sir. I don't mind," she said brightly, feeling quite cheery. 

Dumbledore smiled, bright eyes crinkling. "I hope to do this again, Ginny. Have a good day."

Heading for the door, she stopped with her hand on the knob as a sudden thought hit her. She turned back to the headmaster, biting her bottom lip. "Headmaster, if Harry is a candidate for Head Boy, why wasn't he made a prefect?" she asked softly. 

Dumbeldore's eyes seemed to dim as she spoke, a mournful, saddened glint to the deep blue. Immediately, she felt guilty for saying anything, but inside herself she needed to know the answer. 

He looked at her for a moment before sighing quietly. "Sometimes we do things for those we care for that may not be seen in the right light," he said slowly. "I see something in Harry that I overlooked then. I will not make that mistake again."

~*~

Standing in front of the curtained portrait of Sirius' mother, Harry seriously considered tearing the thing to shreds, just for the fun of it. 

He hadn't been in Grimmauld Place for almost two years, and while he liked the old house, hearing Mrs. Black every day was not something he had missed. The bitterness over Sirius' death had faded into a muted pain, and Harry was finally beginning to get used to the house again. His first night there, he had had nightmares about Sirius' death, but after a firm reminder to himself about his lack of guilt, the rage and pain had diminished. Seeing Remus almost every day helped, as did spending the free time with Ron. 

_Thank Merlin we don't have to clean this place again,_ he thought as he heard the front door open and close downstairs. Since the summer before his fifth year, the house had been kept remarkably clean, which was a relief to Harry and Ron. Now they could wander around Diagon Alley a bit in their free time, even if a member of the Order always had to be with them. 

"Harry?"

He turned to the stairs and saw Tonks grinning at him widely. "I just took Hermione to Hogwarts," she said loftily. "Imagine my surprise when a petite, red-headed girl slipped a note into my pocket as I was leaving."

Rolling his eyes, he held out his hand with a grin. Tonks pulled the note from her pocket of her robes and handed it to him. "Read it quick and hide it; Remus will be here any minute to do a little more training with you and Ron," she warned as he headed down the hall to the room he shared with Ron. 

"I'm sure you could distract him for a few minutes more, couldn't you?" he called over his shoulder, grinning as she blushed slightly and headed back down the stairs.  

Once he was in his room and sitting on his bed, he opened the note and read it like a starved man seeing food for the first time. Finally, a response! He hadn't heard anything from Ginny in almost a month.

_Dear Harry, _

_Your penchant for rule-breaking has overcome me, so here I am breaking my own personal rule and writing you. It's a silent period, so I think I should be safe for a few minutes. _

_Hermione's going to be here in a few hours. It'll be nice to see someone other than a professor sitting with me at meals. I really can't wait to see her, but she'll only be here for a week or so. I suppose then she'll be off to join you and Ron; you can't imagine how jealous I am. _

_I'm not expecting much of a reply back, since Remus must be watching you like a hawk, so don't rush to write back. What could you say to me anyway? Something about the weather would be safe, but do I really want to know about the weather? I'm happy you're not hurt; how was your birthday? Did Mum have time to make you a cake? I didn't have time to get you a present, but maybe I can think of something, hmm? _

_I just want you to know that I miss you dreadfully. I'm always thinking about you, which can annoy certain people at times, but I don't care. I can only hope that Voldemort will drop dead before I see you next, because I honestly don't know I'll be able to keep my hands off you. (Well, aren't I the scarlet woman?) _

_I must go; Madam Pince is getting awfully curious as to what I'm doing in the Library. Try not to do anything foolish, all right? I like you alive, thank you very much._

_Love, Ginny_

Oh dear lord, he hadn't even thought of how it would be when they went back to Hogwarts. How would he be able to control himself around her? If she only knew what he thought about in the middle of the night...   

"Harry! Where are you, mate?"

Ron's voice sent guilt rushing through him, and Harry stuffed the note under his mattress as Ron came in the room, glancing at him with raised eyebrows. "What are you doing in here?" he asked. 

Harry shrugged. "Nothing," he said hastily. 

Shooting a suspicious look in Harry's direction, Ron came in, followed by Remus. To Harry's surprise, his older friend looked exhausted, even more so than usual. "Are you all right, Remus?" he asked as Ron sat on the edge of his bed and Remus took a seat between the two beds. 

Sighing tiredly, Remus nodded. "Yes, Harry; I just got word of the outcome of Peter's trial," he said quietly.

A brief flash of hatred pushed through Harry as Ron made a sort of growl in the back of his throat. "Did the bastard get his due?" Ron asked angrily. 

Remus just shrugged his thin shoulders. "He got some major time in Azkaban, but who knows if it's enough. He's done horrible things to us all; I myself don't think it's enough," he said bitterly.  

Harry shook his head, struggling to push his swelling anger aside. "Nothing is enough for him," he said coldly. 

"Does that mean Sirius has been cleared?" Ron asked softly. 

As Remus nodded, it was like a sucker-punch to Harry's stomach. Sirius was finally proclaimed innocent to the world; if he had been alive, he would have been a free man. He could have fought along side Remus and the other members of the Order, even come to Platform 9 ¾ to see Harry off to his final year of school. He could have gotten to know Ginny more, maybe even tell Harry whether he thought she was good for him. 

If Sirius hadn't died, would Harry and Ginny even be together? 

"Harry?"

Harry looked up from his feet with a jolt, meeting Remus' concerned gaze. Pasting on a small smile, Harry nodded at him. "I'm glad; it's about time," he said shortly. 

"Remus, has Hermione gotten to Hogwarts yet?" Ron asked eagerly. 

Remus smiled as Harry held back a chuckle. "Yes, she has. Tonks just got back from taking her there, actually."

"Do you think she'll be able to find anything for Ginny?" Harry asked soberly, blood running a little faster through his veins as he said Ginny's name aloud. 

Ron broke in before Remus could answer. "This is Hermione we're talking about, Harry! She can find anything," he said with a tinge of pride. 

"Don't get too excited, Ron; Hermione isn't a miracle worker," Remus warned, shooting a glance at Harry as he spoke. "You're not writing to her, are you, Harry?"

"No," Harry replied hastily, thinking of the letter under his bed. "You told me not to."

A small smile spread on Remus' face. "Yes, I did. But when have you ever followed directions?" he said, standing and heading for the door. "I'll be downstairs waiting for you two. We've got some training to do, so hurry up."

As he left the room, Ron raised an eyebrow at Harry. "You can pull the letter out now," he said lightly, shocking Harry.

"How did you know?" Harry asked incredulously as he stood and searched for his shoes. 

"Easy; I was on the stairs when Tonks gave it to you. I figured you'd want to read it right away, so I detained Remus for a bit," Ron said, running a hand through his hair. 

Glancing at his best friend, Harry pulled on his shoes quickly. "Do you mind, Ron? We haven't really talked about this," he said thoughtfully. 

Ron shrugged. "There's nothing to say that we don't already know; she loves you, you love her, and nothing is going to stop that. Besides, if she was going to love someone, I'm glad it's you," he explained simply, heading for the door.

Harry stared at Ron in surprise as he followed him out into the hall. "How the hell did you come up with that?" he exclaimed. 

Ron grinned. "Hermione helped me figure it out; she reckoned you'd want to talk to me about it."

Smirking, Harry nudged Ron in the ribs. "I was wondering how you could say something that sensitive; I've never heard that kind of stuff from you before. Thank Merlin you have Hermione."

With a punch on the arm, Ron led Harry downstairs. "My thoughts exactly."

~*~

Eyes burning and head pounding, Hermione let her forehead drop to the table with a loud thump, pushing her books to the side. This was absurd; she was not about to be outsmarted by Voldemort! Just because she hadn't found anything to help Ginny in the five days she had been at Hogwarts didn't mean there wasn't something there! She would find something, or go mad. 

She had perused almost every book she could find on the mysteries of the soul, and there was nothing about fighting possession. This irritated the tired girl; someone had to have been possessed through their soul and live to tell the tale! Of course, it wasn't terribly common to have your soul possessed. In fact, Ginny was the first case Hermione had ever heard of, which didn't bode well for her little mission. 

Time was running out; in less than two days, she would have to leave for Grimmauld Place, and she desperately wanted to have something, anything for Harry when she got there. He was banking on her finding something; Ron had said as much in his last letter. There was pressure on her to come through on all sides; what if she didn't? What if she, Hermione Granger, bookworm of the ages, failed? 

Merlin, she was almost despondent at the thought. Then Ginny would be condemned to suffer until Voldemort was killed, and who knows when that would happen? 

Sighing, Hermione picked up her forehead and rubbed her eyes, grabbing a random book from her stack by her side.  With a huff of impatience with herself, she decided to do a very un-Hermione-like thing; she would open to a random page and read from there. Her eyes hurt too much to scour every inch of the book right then. 

Opening the book, she let her eyes glide over the text, searching for key words. Most of this was junk that she would think of putting in the same grouping as Divination, but she was determined to conquer. 

Suddenly, a paragraph caught her eye. Hermione narrowed her gaze, reading the section word for word. Possession... Reverse possession... Soul bond...

Her jaw dropped in shock as she finished the last sentence. 

Bloody hell, she had found it. 

Grabbing the book from the table, she sprinted out of the library, much to the displeasure of Madam Pince. Leaving the fussing librarian behind, Hermione ran faster than she had ever before, heading straight for the headmaster's office. Her heart was pounding as she gave the garbled password and the gargoyle swung open. Had she really found it? Was this the answer to Ginny's problem? 

Dumbeldore looked surprised as she burst into his office. "Miss Granger! Is something wrong?"

Breathing heavily, she dropped the open book on his desk in front of him, pointing at the correct paragraph. "I found it," she wheezed. 

She watched his face as she regained her breath, seeing the wide-eyed reaction as he reached the end. Her heart was full to bursting with anticipation as he looked up slowly, eyes wide with shock. 

"Yes, Miss Granger; yes you have."

~*~

A/N: Ooo! What has Hermione found? ^.^ Thanks to my beta Anne, who rocks my socks! Please read and review. 


	3. Revelation

Chapter Three: Revelation

~*~

Harry was sitting on his bed, enjoying the warm breeze floating in from the open window and trying to write out a reply to Ginny when Remus burst into the room, eyes wild and face pale. Sitting up with a start, Harry shoved his parchment off his legs onto the floor. "Remus, what's wrong?"

"Harry, get your cloak. We're going to Hogwarts, now," Remus said shortly, picking up Harry's shoes and tossing them at his feet. 

Bewildered, Harry reached down and pulled them on. "Which cloak?" he asked. 

"The invisibility cloak, of course. What other cloak would you need at Hogwarts?" Remus asked as he pulled Harry out the door after he had grabbed his cloak. Harry didn't have to ask why he needed the invisibility cloak; he assumed it was so he wouldn't run into Ginny. 

Merlin, he was going to be in the same place as Ginny for the first time in over a month. 

His blood burned at the thought. God, how he wanted to touch her...

After Apparating to Hogsmeade, Harry and Remus made the quick trek up to Hogwarts in near silence. Only when they were almost to the castle doors did Remus stop and face Harry, a deadly serious look on his face. 

"Harry, Albus told me Hermione found something for Ginny. I'm going to go in there first, because he and I have things to talk about, and then I'll come get you. Stay under your cloak at all times, all right?" he said tensely, staring right at Harry. 

Nodding, Harry slipped the cloak over his head. Remus led him inside and up to the gargoyle guarding Dumbledore's office, where a fidgeting Hermione was waiting. Seeing Remus, she bounded towards him. 

"Remus! Thank goodness! Is Harry here?" she asked, peering around Remus' shoulders. 

Nodding towards Harry, who stuck out his hand and waved at Hermione, Remus went to the gargoyle and whispered the password. "Now, stay right here," he ordered as the gargoyle opened, and he went quickly up the stairs. 

Hermione grinned. "Oh, Harry! This is amazing! How are you?"

"Fine," he said, clearly startling her. 

"Oh! Well, that's odd. Oh," she exclaimed, wringing her hands nervously. "I've done something rather rash, Harry. But I just had to!"

Harry took the cloak from his head, leaving it on the rest of him. "What are you talking about, Hermione?" he asked. 

She kissed his cheek quickly in greeting and smiled slightly. "You'll see! I'll be right back!"

And then she left him, racing down the corridor. Harry slipped the cloak over his head and chuckled quietly. Hermione was a bit odd sometimes, but he still loved her. God, if only Remus would hurry up! He was dying to know how he could help Ginny. 

"Hermione, what the—"

Harry gaped as he heard a long-missed voice down the hall. Watching incredulously, he saw Hermione come around the corner, tugging a stubborn Ginny behind her. His eyes widened as he took in the sight of her. 

She was beautiful. 

Her hair was up in a messy ponytail, a few reckless strands falling around her freckled face; dark eyes flashed in the mid-afternoon sun streaming in from a near window, wide and sparkling in a way Harry had missed. She was in a simple sundress, but the way she looked in it... It was almost unbearable to look at her. 

Hermione was looking around his general area as Ginny planted her feet and waited, crossing her arms over her chest with a huff. "I'm here. What's going on?" she asked crisply. 

Peeking around, Hermione rolled her eyes. "Come out, Harry. I know this is a stupid thing to do, but she's ok right now. Please come out," she pleaded. 

Ginny's face went from flushed to ash grey as Hermione spoke. "Harry? Harry's here?" she squeaked, hands flying to her mouth. 

With a fervent prayer of thanks to Hermione and whatever luck that was watching out for him, Harry flipped his cloak off, revealing himself to both girls. Hermione grinned weakly and stepped away politely towards the gargoyle as Ginny stared at him with wide eyes. "What are you doing here?" she breathed, but even before he could open his mouth, she waved a hand at him. "Never mind, I don't want to know. You're here, though..." she trailed off. 

Smiling, Harry took a step towards her. "I got your note," he said softly. 

Her eyes lit up as a bit of color returned to her face. "Really? Oh, good. Thank Tonks for me."

They stood in silence for a moment, drinking in the sight of the other. Harry could barely believe his eyes; she was there, right in front of him. Why wasn't she in his arms? Who knows when they could do this again.

Biting her lip, Ginny gazed at him. "Oh, to hell with it," she muttered, going over to him and throwing her arms around his neck. Her breath on his skin shot spikes of heat through his body as he wrapped his arms around her waist, picking her up off her feet and pushing her up against the cool wall. Burying his face in her hair, he breathed in the scent of her. He felt her lips on his neck and nearly went mad with the feelings driving through him. Reaching up with one hand, he pulled her hair from its ribbon, sending it down into wild strands around her face and shoulders, and tangled his hand in it. 

There was wetness on his neck, and he felt her shaking under his hands. Lifting her face to his, he was surprised to see a few stray tears falling from her eyes. "Ginny, what is it?" he asked hurriedly, taking his hand from her hair and wiping the tears from her face with his fingertips. 

Smiling slightly, she shook her head, tightening her grip on him. "I just can't believe you're here," she said softly. "I've missed you so much, Harry."

With a slight chuckle, Harry leaned down and kissed her forehead hesitantly, reveling in the feel of her cool skin. She shivered under his touch. "I missed you, too. It's been so long," he commented quietly. 

Shifting in his arms, Ginny let out a long sigh. "You're... You're taller, I think. And..." she trailed off, a light blush staining her cheeks. "Well, you feel stronger."  

He was about to spill to her the details of his training, but he held his tongue in check. "Well, I'm a growing boy," he joked, gazing at her face, seeing new freckles splashed across her nose. "You're beautiful," he said softly, watching her eyes widen in shock.   
  


A flattering blush rose to her cheeks. "Don't be silly, Harry." 

Smiling down at her, he leaned down and brushed his lips across her forehead. "I'm not being silly. I'm telling the truth," he protested. 

"I hear movement!" Hermione hissed from the gargoyle's side. "Someone's coming!"

Ginny stiffened in his arms and tried to push Harry away. "Go on, Harry. I'll hide in a corner, or something. They can't see us together," she said, bitterness edging her voice. 

Rebellion rushed through him and he tightened his grip, leaning down quickly. "I don't care," he muttered before kissing her mouth hard, overwhelmed with the taste of her. She responded to him immediately, fingers twirling in the hair at the nape of his neck. It had seemed like an eternity since he had tasted her, and he knew he would never get enough of her. 

With a small squeal, he heard Hermione scramble towards them, and in a second he felt cool fabric tossed over him, breaking his focus on Ginny and bringing him back to reality with a jolt. Breaking the connection to her pliant mouth harshly, he looked her square in the eye. "Keep the cloak on you until we're up in Dumbledore's office. Leave it by the gargoyle; I'll pick it up later," he hissed, ducking out from under the cloak and seeing her figure disappear just as he heard the gargoyle open. 

"Harry, come along. You too, Hermione," Remus said. Harry looked at the older man and was shocked at the flabbergasted look on his face, like he had been bowled over by a hippogriff. Curiosity filled him; what exactly had Hermione found?

Following Remus and Hermione up the stairs, he took one last glance down and saw Ginny's head poking up in mid-air, a wide, dreamy smile on her face. Grinning, he turned and entered Dumbledore's office. 

"Ah, Harry. It's good to see you," Dumbledore said as Harry closed the door behind him and took a seat. Hermione sat next to him and Remus paced the room, brow furrowed. "I'm sure you're wondering what's going on."

"Yeah; did Hermione really find something?" Harry asked eagerly, still feeling Ginny's lips on his. 

With a suspicious blush, Hermione nodded. "You see, Harry, the reason Voldemort can connect with Ginny is because he is bonded with her soul. It's very hard to do and very hard to combat, which is why it took so long to find something for her; it's very rare," she explained, glancing towards the headmaster nervously. 

Nodding, Dumbledore leaned forward in his chair. "What Hermione has found is something called a reverse possession. Someone must break the one connection with the possessed person by making their own connection, thus reversing control on the possessed soul."

A sneaking suspicion blossomed within Harry as he glanced at Hermione and saw her blush deepen. "So, is it a spell?" he asked. 

"Well, yes. Someone has to perform the spell, but that isn't enough, Harry," Hermione said hesitantly. 

"What else is there?" Harry asked incredulously, the suspicion growing inside him with ever second. 

Hermione, Remus, and Dumbledore all shared a look before Remus spoke up. "There has to be a physical possession in Ginny's case, because it gives an extra strength to the spell that Voldemort can't give," he said slowly. 

Either he was very thick, or they weren't giving him a straight answer, because he still didn't understand what they were talking about. "So what does that mean? Tell me straight out!" he exclaimed, starting to feel a little frustrated. 

Rolling her eyes in a sudden burst of impatience, Hermione huffed. "Harry, don't be daft! What do you think we mean by physical possession?" 

All eyes on him, Harry was beginning to feel very frustrated. Was it his fault if he didn't understand Hermione's roundabout way of explaining things? 

Seeing his confusion, Remus patted his shoulder briefly. "Didn't Sirius ever give you his version of 'the Talk', Harry?" he asked weakly. 

Surprise jolted through him as the realization dawned on him swiftly and he jumped out of his chair. "Bloody hell! Someone has to have sex with her?" he blurted out before he could stop the words, a heated flush suffusing his face. 

Hermione turned bright red at his outburst, while Remus and Dumbledore looked rather calm at his choice of words. "Not quite how I would have put it, but yes," Dumbledore said nonchalantly. 

"Not just anyone, Harry. You have to," Remus added quickly. 

Harry's mind went blank as Remus' words registered. 

He had to _have sex_? 

With Ginny? 

Bloody hell. 

"_I_ have to?" he exclaimed. 

"Would you rather someone else do it, Harry?" Hermione snapped.    

"Over my dead body!" he retorted just as quickly, anger slicing through him at the thought. 

Dumbledore clasped his hands together. "I understand this is extreme, Harry," he began somberly. "But this is an extreme circumstance. I don't know how you feel about this, but I feel that this could be our only option."

Harry turned to the old wizard. "We're so young, though. She's only 16, and I'm..." he trailed off, not quite sure he could handle the churning in his stomach. 

"Harry, Ginny loves you," Hermione said softly. "She may be young, and I don't know how I feel about this yet, but... If it feels right, then how can you not consider it?"

Running a hand through his hair, Harry shut his eyes, mind whirling. How could he consider something like this without being able to talk to Ginny? He couldn't make this kind of decision, not without knowing how she really felt about everything, including him. 

Opening his eyes, he glanced at Hermione. "How does this work, exactly?" he asked quietly. 

She sat down beside him, eyes brightening in a way Harry knew well; this look only came when she was about to share something she alone knew how to explain. "It's a very old form of magic; the reference I used said this was performed in Merlin's time," she said. "The spell itself is remarkably simple; it's the performer who makes all the difference. You would perform the spell on Ginny, and then immediately after you would have to do the physical possession." 

His gaze narrowed as conflict rose within him. "You make it sound so cold." 

Shaking her head vigorously, Hermione placed a hand on his arm. "No, Harry! This was seen as a saving grace, especially in situations like this. The Pagans even used to perform it as a protection spell for their mates, to keep them from harm. And it only works if there is a true bond between the caster and its recipient. That's part of the ancient magic within the spell," she reassured him, a slight smile on her face. 

"I wouldn't condone this, Harry, if I didn't feel that your parents would do the same thing if they were in your situation," Remus said gently, squeezing Harry's shoulder. 

Harry looked up at Remus with a shocked gaze. "What?" he exclaimed. 

A bittersweet look crossed Remus' eyes as he spoke. "Your parents would do anything for each other, Harry. If this was the only option, I know what their answer would be," he commented, looking off onto the Quidditch grounds. 

Harry was silent as he watched his father's old friend, heart and mind warring. His parents... They began roughly, but in the end, they loved each other enough to die for each other. He was willing to die for Ginny; he had known that for a while now. Was she willing to do the same for him? 

_They won't die because of you, Harry. They'll die for you. _

Her words from a year ago came back to him, and he felt a strange tightening in his chest. Merlin, she had always been willing to sacrifice for him, hadn't she? Would she be willing to do this much? 

It was in that moment that the realization he had been dancing around for months finally hit him. 

He loved her. He loved her with everything he could give, which might not be much, but he would still give her anything and everything. 

"Does Ginny have a say in this at all?" he asked, breaking the silence that had fallen in the office. "I won't do this unless she agrees to it fully." 

"Of course she does, Harry," Remus said with a placating hand on his shoulder. "But this does seem to be the only option available to her, at least the only realistic one. And are you really protesting this?" he added with a slightly mischievous edge to his voice. "It wouldn't be so difficult for you, I'm sure."

Glaring at Remus, Harry sat down heavily. "Don't be absurd. Anyway, Ron will maul me. Her brothers will kill me. And what about her parents? I couldn't break their trust like that," he commented with a note of trepidation. 

"That's absurd, Harry. Ron will understand," Hermione said quickly, face pink. Curiosity peaking again, Harry was about to ask just how well Ron would understand when Dumbledore began to speak. 

"Arthur and Molly know how you and Ginny feel about each other, Harry. They only want to see their child happy and safe. You're like another son to them; they know you won't her," the headmaster said calmly. 

"What do you think, Harry?" Remus asked softly.

Muscles tightening, Harry let out a slow breath. Oh hell, what did he _think_? What did they expect him to think of it? "It... It's the only way?" he said slowly and quietly. 

"At the moment, yes. We will wait another week or so, to see if we can find anything less extreme, but time is of the essence." Dumbledore replied. 

Hermione squeezed Harry's arm. "This is the real deal, Harry; keep it in mind."

Keep it in mind?

Harry didn't think there was anything else he was going to think about this summer.

Ginny had to know how he felt. He had a letter to write.   

~*~

Ginny was a nervous wreck. September 1st was less than two weeks away; she didn't have any of her school supplies; she was still at Hogwarts; Hermione was gone; and in a week, she was supposed to go to Diagon Alley to stay at the Leaky Cauldron until the start of school, according to Dumbledore. He had already made her arrangements, which was quite good of him. 

But Harry was there. 

Maybe the headmaster had finally lost his mind. All summer, she had been told to keep away from Harry, not communicate with him, even think about him at all, and now Dumbledore was putting her right next door to him! Either he had lost all sanity, or he had a great faith in her self-control. 

It was a shame she didn't have any self-control left. 

It was Harry's fault, really! Ever since she had seen him at Hogwarts a little more than a week ago and he had kissed the life from her, her restraint had evaporated. She just knew if she saw him in Diagon Alley, she would latch onto him and never let him go. 

All this was quite amusing to Tom, as he told her daily. He always nagged on her supposed lack of taste in men and said things that made her blush so hard, a person wouldn't be able to tell where her face ended and her hair began. And although she was getting pretty good at ignoring him, it had been harder than usual, what with her constant thoughts upon Harry and her predicament. 

Waking up a few days before her departure, she felt something different inside herself, something that worried her. It was a feeling she got when Tom was feeling especially pleased with himself, and that was always a bad sign. The day was dark with summer storm clouds, giving her an ominous feeling as she went for her morning walk around the grounds. The breeze was chilly, sending twinges of fear down her spine as her mind stayed oddly silent. 

Ending up in one of the castle's gardens, Ginny pulled out Harry's latest letter, which Tonks had brought yesterday. She hadn't had a chance to read it yet, so she sat down on a stone bench and unfolded it, beginning to read. 

_Dear Ginny,_

_This is probably the hardest letter I've ever written. Now, don't get any ridiculous ideas like I'm about to break up with you, because I'm not. It's just hard because I'm not good with this "expressing your feelings" thing, but I thought you should know some things._

_I've never really understood how people can just say how they feel about other people, obviously. But, you really brought something out in me that I didn't realize I had. And... Well, I love you, Ginny. You, and your family, and Remus, and Sirius; you all helped me to understand what love is, and I can actually say it to you, which is a giant step. _

_Sirius was cleared earlier in the month because of Peter's conviction. Because of this, we're finally having a memorial for him. After more than a year, I can finally say goodbye to him properly. I miss him; you know how it is. I just hope I've done enough to make his death not to be in vain. I need to redeem myself in his eyes, because I feel like I don't deserve anyone dying for me. I don't think anything will ever change that, but if I knew he was happier now, and that he didn't blame me, it might hurt less. _

_Tonks is here; I guess I should wrap this up. Just know that no matter what, I love you. _

_Harry_

When she looked up, her eyes burned with unshed tears. Setting the letter down, she rubbed at her eyes, bitterness welling up inside of her. This poor man, who had nothing that resembled a family for the first eleven years of his life, was finally discovering what it meant to be loved and to love in return. And Sirius, a man who had always been kind to her, was finally getting the remembrance he deserved. 

She didn't think she hated Voldemort so much in that one moment than she ever had before. All the pain and suffering he had caused, just for his own personal gain... He wasn't even a human. Merlin, how could she have ever seen good in him? It didn't matter if it had been his younger self; the evil and malice was shining in his eyes, palpable in his words. She had been a fool. How she longed to be free from him! It didn't matter how; she'd kill herself if it was the only option. 

_Sirius Black was a foolish man, Virginia. They're all fools to remember him, especially now._

There was an abrupt gust of wind, blowing her hair free from its ribbon and lifting the letter from her side to float on the breeze. With a gasp, she raced after it, catching it just as it was about to fly off onto the grounds. Pushing her hair from her face, she felt the beginnings of rain on her bare arms, and looked up to meet the sprinkles head on. 

_Don't you wonder where Professor Dumbledore is, __Virginia__? The memorial service should have been over by now..._

She shut her eyes, focusing on the cool water slipping across her skin, cleansing her as a clap of thunder sounded from above. The rain picked up, beginning to soak through her light clothes. Thinking of Sirius, she prayed he was content where he was, for Harry's sake. 

_Can Harry stand to lose anyone else, is the real question. I suppose we'll find out, won't we?_

"Miss Weasley! Miss Weasley!"

Professor McGonagall's frantic voice startled Ginny out of her thoughts. Opening her eyes, she saw the professor waving at her from the entrance to the garden. Foreboding rose within her as she walked over to the older woman, clutching Harry's letter tightly in her fist. Lightning streaked across the sky, followed by a loud crash of thunder. 

"Professor, what is it?" she asked over the rising rain and wind as she neared McGonagall. 

The Transfiguration teacher looked positively beside herself, which Ginny had never seen before. "Come inside, quickly. Who knows what might come," she murmured, pulling Ginny inside by the elbow.

Fear tugged at Ginny as they entered the castle. "Professor, has something happened? What's wrong?" she asked anxiously. 

McGonagall looked hesitant to speak, but Ginny's pleading face soon overwhelmed her suspicions. "There was a memorial for Sirius Black this morning, and many people were there, including your family, Miss Granger, and Mr. Potter," she said slowly. "Just as it was wrapping up, Death Eaters sprung a surprise attack. I just got the news from the headmaster." 

The breath left Ginny's lungs as she froze, heart halting mid-beat. Dimly, she heard Tom's maniacal laughter in her mind as she struggled to form words. "But... Is everyone all right?" she whispered, feeling something tighten in her chest. 

Gryffindor's Head of House had to turn away from Ginny's bright gaze. "I don't know. I haven't heard anything else from the headmaster." 

Shutting her eyes tightly, Ginny took a shallow breath. Hate and fear vied for first in her mind, and she had to struggle to keep herself from running out of the castle to kill Voldemort herself. If anyone died, she would kill him herself without hesitation.

If Harry was dead, she would make sure he suffered greatly before his death. He would _beg_ to die before she was done. 

"Miss Weasley, would you like to wait in my office with me? I wouldn't mind; I do have some tea up there," McGonagall asked quietly. 

Nodding slowly, Ginny opened her eyes. News had better come quickly, or she would go mad with this rage. 

~*~

The pain in his scar was finally beginning to subside as Harry struggled to his feet, wand clenched tightly in his fist. Glancing around him, his heart plummeted. The quiet, pristine church where Sirius' memorial was held was blackened and smoking, stone and wood splayed across the lawn like a battleground. There were people lying on the ground, robes torn and bodies bloodied, moans of pain escaping their throats. More people were up and around, searching for clues and heading off the Muggle police, who had arrived before Harry had regained consciousness. 

Looking around frantically, he saw Hermione and Ron running towards him, both looking a little beat up. Once again, he glanced at the people on the lawn; a rage he had never knew boiled within him. Could he have nothing in the world that wasn't tainted by Voldemort? Could he not live for one day? Could he not remember a man who had died for him in peace? 

"Harry, thank goodness!" Hermione exclaimed as she and Ron came up to him. "We've been searching for you for ages!" 

"I got knocked out in the middle of a duel," Harry said without any inflection. "I suppose they thought I was dead, or they didn't realize who I was, because they just left me. How are you two?" 

Ron shrugged, eyes wild with anger even though his face was collected. "Fine; Fred and George stayed by us. They went to look for Mum and Dad."

Something inside Harry seized up; if Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were injured or killed, there would be true hell to pay. 

And where was Remus?

"Have you seen Remus? I lost him when the roof of the church exploded," he asked his friends as they began searching for familiar faces. 

Hermione looked very pale but determined. "No, but I'm sure he's fine, Harry."

"Hey, Harry!"

The three turned to see Oliver Wood waving at them. "Will you three get out of here and back to headquarters, all right? You look like hell," he shouted as he lifted a bloody Arabella Figg into his arms. 

Harry nodded, all the while scanning the ground for his father's close friend. "I can't leave without knowing Remus is all right," he muttered to Ron and Hermione. 

Suddenly, he caught a glimpse of bright purple hair. 

"Tonks!" he exclaimed, running over to her. Ron and Hermione were hot on his heels as he kneeled by the Auror's side. "Why didn't you call out?" he asked, looking her over. Her lip was bleeding, but that was nothing compared to gash at her left side; the blood was coming steadily out of the wound, and Harry put a hand on her side to staunch the flow, feeling it seep between his fingers.   

Ever cheerful, Tonks grinned weakly at him. "You beat me to it, Harry," she whispered. 

"What the hell happened to you?" Ron asked angrily as Hermione waved at someone for help. 

"Lucius Malfoy, bloody bastard, got me from behind." She chuckled hoarsely. "I'd kill him in a fair fight." 

Gingerly, Harry slipped his arm underneath her. "Is this all right?" he asked as Ron held onto her legs gently. 

"It's fine. Do you know where Remus is? I was looking for him, but bloody Malfoy got me first," she said, looking up at Harry with pleading eyes. "I thought I saw him go after Bellatrix Lestrange, and I'm worried, Harry."

Chest tightening, Harry tried to give her a reassuring smile. "Don't worry, Tonks. I'll find him," he said softly as he and Ron lifted her from the ground and carried her towards Professor Dumbledore and Mad-Eye Moody, Hermione following them and yelling for a stretcher. 

"Is she all right, Potter?" Moody asked gruffly as a mediwizard brought over a stretcher for Tonks. 

"I think so, sir," Harry replied as he and Ron set her down carefully. "Have you seen Remus anywhere?" 

Moody and Dumbledore shared an unreadable look before the headmaster glanced at Harry. "I thought he was with you," he said slowly. 

"We got separated. Is someone looking for him?" Harry asked quickly, trying to control the apprehension setting in. 

Moody nodded briefly. "I'll get someone on it; he might have already left for headquarters." 

That didn't sit right with Harry; Remus wouldn't just leave a battle without good reason. And, it was the full moon tonight, which gave extra cause for worry. What if...

What if Voldemort had him? 

He couldn't lose Remus, not after everything; Remus was all he had left from his parents and from the life he didn't remember as a baby. That would be like losing Ginny; it would send him over the edge. Who knows what he would do? 

Where the hell was Remus? 

~*~

_Come on, werewolf. I know you don't want to die yet. Where's Potter? _

Tossing in her sleep, Ginny let out a small whimper. She knew who Voldemort was torturing, knew why she was hearing it.

He had gotten Remus. 

_Are you ready to tell, or shall I give you another night to transform without Wolfsbane? I'm sure you recall last night. _

A sob escaped her throat, tears sliding down her face as she heard the panting and moaning of transformation, the howls of pain. 

_I have a treat for you, Virginia. The werewolf is hungry; it shall be fed. _

A young girl's cries, a girl who could barely be ten. 

_Eleven, the perfect age; you were eleven when you first met me, Virginia. _

The sniffing for fresh blood, the need for hunger; the full mind of a werewolf. The girl let out a scream of terror. Bile filled Ginny's throat. 

_You won't see her die, __Virginia__; I thought you would rather feel it. _

And feel it she did; the claws ripped into her chest, jaws clamping down on her throat. She screamed as the girl did, feeling the blood flow from her wounds. Howls echoed her screams; soon, the girl fell silent. Ginny continued to scream, ripping at herself until hands and voices shook her awake, brought her back from Voldemort. She began to sob, feeling blood on her skin mix with the salt of her tears. A hand on her back rubbed rhythmically, a soft voice in her ear comforting her as she let herself bleed. 

"Ginny, it's all right. I'm here," whispered a deep, familiar voice. 

She clung to his warmth, crying into his chest as he wrapped her arms around him. Not understanding why he was there, she just accepted his comfort, feeling the guilt of death on her soul. 

"You dreamt of Remus, didn't you?" he asked softly, wiping a bit of blood from her cheek. 

She nodded, breathing shallowly, and looked up at his shadowed face. There were cuts on his face; they mirrored hers. "Is that why you're here?" she asked quietly.

He nodded, brushing her hair from her eyes. "Dumbledore let me come; I Apparated here a few minutes ago." 

Suddenly, he shuddered. "They can't find him, Ginny, and he won't tell Voldemort anything. I feel... I feel helpless," he murmured, tightening his grip on her. 

Reaching up, she traced the fiery scar on his forehead. "I'm sorry," she whispered, leaning up and kissing him briefly. "I'm so sorry." 

They sat on her bed in silence, comforting each other and waiting for the morning. 

~*~

A/N: *sniff* I feel bad. Please read and review. Many thanks to Anne! 

*waits for flames*


	4. Vow

Chapter Four: Vow

~*~

"They found him."

Bringing his head up from Ginny's hair, Harry gazed at Dumbledore with empty eyes. The sun was just peeking over the horizon, casting a pinkish glow across the sky. The storms had passed, leaving peace in their wake. He felt Ginny shift in his arms and turn her head towards the headmaster standing in her doorway. Breathing in slowly, he tightened his grip on her body. 

Dumbledore came further into the room. "It seems Severus was able to alert the Order of where they were keeping him. With his help, they infiltrated the headquarters. Voldemort was already gone by the time they got there," he said softly. 

"Is he dead?" Harry asked quietly, numb to the mighty grief threatening to overwhelm him. Ginny shivered in his arms. 

"No; he's at St. Mungo's." 

Sitting up abruptly, Ginny looked up at Harry with wide eyes. "Harry, you have to go see him," she whispered, voice hoarse from her nightmares. "He needs you." 

Nodding slowly, he stood, Ginny at his side. "When can I go to see him?" he asked, voice toneless. He wasn't going to break, not now; later, when everything was all over, he would feel his rage and sorrow. It was too soon now. 

"Now, if you want to. Ginny can go with you as well; she was leaving for London today anyway," Dumbledore said wearily, his sorrow and tiredness etched onto the lines in his face. "I will transport her things to the Leaky Cauldron; they will be there when she arrives." 

"Thank you," Ginny said softly from Harry's side. 

Harry steeled himself. "Go on and get dressed, Gin; I'll wait for you," he said, letting her go for the first time in hours. 

*

When he and Ginny entered the wing of St Mungo's where Dumbledore said Remus was located, they found Ron, Hermione, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, and Tonks all in chairs outside his room. Tonks saw them first, and Harry's resolve almost shattered at the sight of her teary, bloodshot eyes and pale face. She jumped from her chair and pulled them both into a tight embrace. 

"Oh god, Harry... I'm glad you're here," she whispered in his ear before releasing him and Ginny. 

Everyone else rose and came towards them. Hermione and Mrs. Weasley looked very much like Tonks did, with paling faces and tear-streaked cheeks. Ron glanced nervously at Ginny before going to Harry and giving him a brotherly embrace. As Harry returned it, he saw Ginny hugging her parents for the first time in near a month, and wasn't surprised to see a few stray tears slide down her face. 

Hermione was next to hug him; she also slipped a thick envelope in his hand as she let him go. "We got our school letters this morning; I brought you yours," she said softly. 

"Oh, Harry!" Mrs. Weasley came up and hugged him to her tightly, smoothing his hair down and kissing his cheek. "Oh, my dear, dear boy..." 

Returning her embrace, he pushed all his conflicting feelings beneath his conscious thought; he was not going to break down in front of all of them. Still, he took comfort in the support evident in the little group. "How is he?" he asked as Mrs. Weasley released him. 

Tonks looked away towards the floor as Mr. Weasley replied. "It wasn't good when I brought him in; the medi-wizards haven't said anything to us, but I think..." he trailed off, clearly at a loss for words. 

"He's going to die," Harry said flatly, causing everyone except Ginny to flinch at his tone. 

Hermione shook her head, wiping her eyes quickly. "There's always a chance, Harry. These are the best medi-wizards, and—"

"He wants to die," Ginny said softly, drawing everyone's attention. She was standing near the door of Remus' room, eyes dark and hollow. "I felt it last night, and I can feel it now. It's like an aura in the air."

Ron shook his head incredulously at his sister, eyes wide. "No one wants to die," he said stubbornly. "Why would Remus?" 

It suddenly occurred to Harry that no one except he and Ginny knew what Remus had done as a full werewolf. The thought relieved him; Remus could be at peace with that. No one needed to know about the girl. 

What of the girl? 

He turned to Mr. Weasley and pulled him aside abruptly. "Did you find anyone else at the hideout, sir?" he asked quickly. 

Bitterness crept into Arthur Weasley's usually clear gaze, a gaze that had seen too much death for one lifetime. "There was the body of a young girl, ripped to pieces," he said darkly. "We think they tortured her for _fun_."

Harry's stomach clenched tightly; he shut his eyes. He couldn't handle this now; why was he here? He should have waited to come, it was too soon—

A gentle arm slipped around his waist, and he felt someone press their cheek to his shoulder. "It's ok, Harry; you need to be here," he heard Ginny say softly. 

"Harry?"

Opening his eyes, he turned to see a distraught Tonks standing by an older medi-wizard. Ginny kept her arm around his waist as Tonks motioned him closer to the door of Remus' room. "You should go in and see him; he was asking for you when I left him last," Tonks said quietly, knuckles white. 

Blood icy, Harry nodded. His stomach churned uncomfortably as he glanced at the off-white door. 

The arm fell away from his waist. "I'll wait out here for you, Harry," Ginny said gently. 

He looked down at her, desperation seeping into his veins. He couldn't go in there by himself; he wouldn't be able to handle it. "No; come with me. He'll want to see you too," he protested, taking her hand in his. 

Her eyes widened; he could see the fear shining in them. "But what if-"

"Gin, I need you. Please come with me," he pleaded softly. 

Ginny looked if she were about to hesitate, but her mother spoke before she could. "Go, Ginny; we've all seen him, and you have to as well. Don't be afraid, dear," Mrs. Weasley said, patting Ginny on the shoulder. 

With a resolute nod, Ginny nodded at Harry, and they both entered the dark room. 

*

Watching as Harry and Ginny went into Remus' room, Hermione felt like crying all over again. When she had first heard the news of Remus' capture, she had been eating dinner with Ron and Harry, and it had been a shock to everyone. Then, she had been shaken awake by Ron very early this morning, and he had told her that his dad and other Order members had gone after Remus. She had clung to him until Tonks came to take them to St. Mungo's, crying into his shoulder and wondering why Harry wasn't with them. 

When she saw Harry walk in with Ginny, it had all clicked; he must have gone to Hogwarts to tell her. Maybe she had even had a vision of it, if Voldemort had opened their link. Had Harry told her of the spell that could save her yet? Hermione didn't think so. Obviously, after this, a decision would be made about it quickly. 

"How's my Head Girl doing?" 

She looked at Ron, who was trying to smile at her, and a tear fell from her eye. "That doesn't seem important anymore," she murmured, wondering if Harry would open his letter with Remus to see if he was Head Boy. 

Ron slipped his arms around her, pulling her to his warm form. "Remus would think it was important, Hermione. He would care." 

She was silent as he rocked her, watching the Weasleys and Tonks converse quietly a little ways away from them. Poor Tonks, who had hardly begun to have any kind of relationship with Remus. They barely got time to themselves because of Order business, and if they did, it was usually a few moments; not enough for everything she must have wanted to tell him. Hermione's heart broke for the Auror; to lose someone so quickly and so young... 

It made her think of losing Ron. And the thought horrified her. 

"Why was Ginny here, do you think?" Ron asked quietly, breaking the silence between them. 

She looked up at him curiously. "Why not? She has every right to be here; she's as close as we are to Remus." 

He looked uncomfortable, eyes sliding from her to the door and back. "Well, what if... What if Voldemort found out about the service through her? It's possible; Harry wrote her the day before," he said hesitantly. 

Gaping at him, she moved out of the circle of his arms. "You think this was _Ginny's _fault?" she hissed. "I hope you don't say that to anyone else; she would have said something if she knew it was her fault. She tells Dumbledore everything!" 

"I can't help thinking it! How do we know what's going on in her mind, Hermione? How do we know if she'll give away the location of headquarters, or secrets she knows about the Order? This is serious!" he exclaimed, earning sharp glances from his parents. 

Hermione shook her head in disbelief. "There is a reason she has been isolated from all of us, Ron. Don't you remember that she's been gone? Or didn't you notice?" she asked bitterly. "After all, she is only your little sister." 

Ron frowned. "Hermione, that's not what I meant," he said quietly. "I... I just don't know how to handle this."

She gazed at him from a few feet away, letting the words disappear between them. Sighing heavily, he met her fiery gaze. "I'm sorry, Hermione. I didn't mean what I said, honestly," he said pleadingly, reaching out for her. "Please don't get angry with me now. I know I'm a prat, but I need you." 

Tears filled her eyes again; she went back into his arms, holding him even more tightly. Her gaze went to Tonks again, and her heart clenched. 

_Please, let him live, for her._

*

The room was dark; with the shades drawn, only a few slivers of morning's light slipped into the room. It was enough to see the bandaged, bloodied figure lying on the bed. His eyes were closed when Harry and Ginny entered, but they opened a crack at the sound of the door closing. A small smile crossed the bruised face. 

"Harry; I was hoping you would be here," he said roughly, the voice a distorted, scratchy version of the familiar. 

With Ginny nudging him from behind, Harry swallowed and walked forward, fists clenched. He felt his school letter crumple under the pressure of his hand. "Hello, Remus. How are you feeling?" he asked, voice leaving him as he saw the extent of his friend's visible injuries. 

Past the smile, there were claw marks all over Remus' face and neck, which were smothered in a healing ointment, stark red against the pale skin. His left arm was in a sling; his right was bruised beyond belief. Harry couldn't see anything else because of the blankets around Remus' torso and legs, but he could only imagine what other injuries there were. Ginny gasped quietly at his side; he felt her shudder. 

Remus' eyes went from Harry to Ginny and back. "I feel... I feel unclean," he replied soberly, the smile disappearing from his face. 

Harry felt his throat close up; Ginny grasped his hand tightly. "Oh, Remus..." she whispered, tears filling her eyes. "I'm so sorry."

The man inhaled apprehensively. "Do you know what I did?" he asked slowly. 

She nodded tearfully. "Voldemort... I felt it," she said weakly. 

Harry watched his friend's eyes widen as they came back to him. He nodded, feeling the first pangs of grief strike him and struggling to hold himself together. 

Remus shut his eyes. "I don't even recall... I just know it. The werewolf in me relished it..." he trailed off, voice breaking. 

Silence fell in the room; Harry felt his insides knot together as he ran his thumb across Ginny's knuckles in comfort. What could he say? What was there to say now? 

"What's in your hand, Harry?" 

Remus' thin question startled him from his thoughts. He unclenched his hand and looked at the wrinkled envelope. "My school letter. Hermione gave it to me," he said softly. 

Remus smiled weakly. "Open it up. I want to know something," he commented. 

Letting go of Ginny's hand, he ripped open the envelope and shook the contents out onto his palm. 

A shining Head Boy badge fell out along with the usual letter. 

He gaped and looked up to meet Remus' pleased eyes. "I wasn't a prefect, though!" he exclaimed. 

"Neither was your father," Remus replied softly. 

Harry raised his eyebrows, hand clenched around the badge. "Really?" 

"Upset many a male prefect, but there it is," Remus said with a slightly humorous tone. "I was hoping this would happen." 

Heart falling to the floor, Harry stepped closer to the bed. "Remus, I'm sorry. If it hadn't-"

"Quiet, Harry," Remus interjected, reaching over with his good hand to place it on Harry's arm. "This isn't your fault at all. Taking on all the blame for everything bad that happens is not the answer, all right? It's over, and I've accepted it."

There was a finality in his tone that didn't sit well with Harry. "You're going to be fine, right?" he asked, a slight amount of desperation creeping into his voice. 

Ginny put her hand on his shoulder as Remus smiled sadly at Harry. "Harry, look what I've done. I can't live with myself with the death of that innocent child on my soul. And I've done all I can to absolve myself," he said softly. 

"You can't die, Remus. What about Tonks?" Harry asked. _What about me? _

Shaking his head slightly, Remus sighed. "Tonks will be fine in time; she'll remember me fondly. And, I'm not worried about you anymore, Harry. Not like I used to worry."

Shell-shocked, Harry just listened to Remus' frail voice. "After Sirius died, you were the only thing I was living for, Harry. I made a vow to him that night that I would be there for you like he was supposed to be there; I don't think I did such a bad job, hmm?" Remus chuckled hoarsely. 

Harry shook his head, trying to control the sorrow and grief swelling within him. "You were great, Remus; No one could have been better," he assured the injured man swiftly, feeling Ginny's hand tighten on his shoulder.      

A warm smile grew on Remus' bloodied face. "I'm glad you were happy, Harry. I tried so hard to be what you needed. I grew to love you like a son; if I was ever to have had a son, I would have wanted him to be like you. And I know Sirius felt the same way." 

He winced, breathing shallowly. Harry started, and Ginny leaned forward. "Are you all right, Remus?" she asked worriedly, voice thick with tears. 

Eyes settling on Ginny, the small smile returned to his face. "I forgot you were here, Ginny; you were so quiet," he commented softly. "You're the reason I can feel fine with leaving Harry, you know."

The breath caught in Harry's throat as Ginny's eyes widened. Remus chuckled slightly and nodded. "You're his support, his faith, his hope; you can be everything he needs, in one person. You love him, and he loves you; the both of you will be able to survive anything if you have each other," he finished quietly. "It's the only thing Voldemort doesn't understand: love." 

Tears burned behind Harry's eyes for the first time in a long time, but he held them back, taking a deep breath. Ginny took his hand, squeezing tightly; he could hear her quiet sobs. Remus smiled slightly. "Now, go on; I want to see Tonks," he said with forced cheer. 

"I'll come back later," Harry said quickly. 

Remus shook his head. "No, Harry! Don't come back," he said firmly. "It's time for me to go; your parents and Sirius are waiting for me, Harry." 

Desperation overwhelmed Harry; this couldn't be happening to Remus, immovable Remus! "Remus, you can't leave! Not now, not when we're so close to beating him," he pleaded. 

Cool hands touched his arms as Remus gave him a bittersweet smile. "I'm not leaving, Harry, just how Sirius or your parents never left you. Your father is your Patronus; your mother has her protection over you. Sirius and I will always be with you, watching you. If you ever need us, we'll be here. The dead who we truly love never leave us; you know that," he said softly. Harry could see the beginning of sorrow and pain in his eyes, completely unrelated to his injuries.  

"I'm so sorry, Remus," Ginny breathed, not bothering to wipe the tears from her face. "I should have done something, anything-"

"This wasn't your fault either, Ginny; don't you and Harry go and make yourselves miserable with guilt, all right? You still have things to do, like get married and raise a family," Remus said as he interrupted her. A wistful look flashed in his eyes. "If anything, you two will have beautiful children." 

Leaning down, Ginny pressed a chaste kiss to Remus' brow. "You were always so kind to me, Remus; thank you," she whispered thickly, stepping away to let Harry say his farewell. 

Harry and Remus looked at each other silently for a moment; in his mind, Harry promised that if he and Ginny did survive this war and got married, their first son would be named for Remus. Abruptly, Harry leaned down and awkwardly embraced Remus, trying to avoid hurting him further. A pain he hadn't felt since Sirius' death came back with rough force, threatening to drown him and render him useless. _Oh god, why him?_

Returning the embrace with his one good arm, Remus patted Harry on the back. "Don't be afraid to let go, Harry; you still have many to lean upon," he said quietly into Harry's ear. "And love her, Harry; just let go and love her." 

Nodding, Harry released Remus for the last time. "Thank you, Remus, for everything. I-" he trailed off, seeing the understanding in the other man's eyes. 

"I know, Harry. Goodbye," he said gently. 

He couldn't bear it anymore; Harry turned away, walking past Ginny to the door. Entering the bright hallway, his eyes struggled to adjust and he shook his head, moving past his stricken friends and breaking out into a run. He dodged nurses with carts and medi-wizards to finally find a deserted corridor. Leaning against a wall, he sunk down to a sitting position, bringing his knees up to his chin, putting his head in his hands, and began to shake with repressed sobs. 

He'd lost everything he'd ever known about his parents or his life before Voldemort; now all he had was death and loneliness to keep him company. If Remus could be taken so easily, what was next? 

It was pure torture; he longed to just cry, but the emotional walls he had perfected over the years were too strong. He needed someone; he needed Ginny. 

"Harry?"

Looking up through hooded eyes, he saw her small form standing over him, face pale and eyes as blurry as his. She knelt beside him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders, and pushed the fringe from his gaze. "I'm so sorry, Harry; I wish I could do something," she murmured. 

She could do something; he lifted his hands to her and framed her face, bringing it closer to his. "Don't leave me," he ordered roughly, voice cracking. 

Tears fell freely from her eyes as she kissed him. "Never."

~*~

The next days were silent; Ginny spent her days and nights in Harry's company, always by his side but staying rather quiet as he mourned the loss of a man who had become like a brother or father to him. Keeping to her vow to him, she left him rarely, and then only for a few minutes. She was afraid of what he would do if left alone for a long period of time. 

To the shock of all, Harry refused to return to Grimmuald Place. Instead, he collected all his belongings and roomed with Ginny at the Leaky Cauldron for the remainder of August, which was only a few days. Strangely enough, none of the adults made a fuss; they simply accepted it as they accepted everything else. No one even reminded her of keeping her distance; it was a moot point now. She and Harry were directly connected in many ways, and Ginny's promise to Harry was just the verbal acknowledgement of what was obvious on physical and emotional levels. 

The Order couldn't take the chance for another memorial service, what with Death Eaters watching their every move, so Dumbledore took care of Remus' funeral arrangements, having him buried by Lily and James Potter near Godric's Hollow. Harry had protested mightily at not being allowed to pay his respects, but Dumbledore had insisted they all keep a low profile until they were safe at Hogwarts. 

Ginny only saw Tonks a few times after that day in St Mungo's, and when she did see her, the sight of her bereft eyes and hollow face made her want to cry. She couldn't imagine losing her loved one, not so young and so soon after getting together; she wasn't able to visual mourning Harry. 

Mourning Remus was one of the most difficult times in her life to date; she went back and forth in her mind, thinking of ways she could have saved him, but it all came to nothing. He was dead, and she was left to set Harry to rights before Voldemort took advantage of his weakened state. It had been the silent vow she and Remus had shared by his bedside, sealed by her kiss; she would never abandon Harry, not while she had breath in her body. 

Lying awake in her bed the night before September 1st, Ginny was thinking along those lines when the floorboards creaked. She turned to her side and saw Harry's shadowed figure rising from his bed and moving lithely towards hers. He hadn't done this before; in the night, he usually stayed awake and waited for the dawn so he could pretend he had slept. She always stayed up with him, just in case he should need her in his silent reverie, but he never did. It was a seclusion she didn't like, but she didn't want to push him so soon after Remus' death. 

But he was watching her now, looking for any sign of wakefulness in her face. "Ginny?" 

His voice was hoarse; she missed the smooth, deep voice that soothed her in the Hogwarts corridor only a few short weeks ago. "I'm awake, Harry," she said, sitting up in her bed. 

Nodding, he sat down next to her, bed sagging under both their weights. She didn't touch him, and he made no move towards her. They just sat together, watching the gibbous moon cross the inky sky above the roofs of London. Ginny ached for him, wanted desperately to heal his broken mind. 

Finally, he inhaled deeply. "Do you... Do you think we'll survive, Ginny?" he asked quietly, eyes focused on the sky. 

She shifted closer to him. "Yes; I know we will," she replied with complete conviction. 

"How? How do you know?" he asked, eyes meeting hers. The sorrow in the green irises frightened her. "Why do we survive and others don't?" 

Exhaling slowly, she kept his gaze. "I don't know why some people die and others live, Harry," she began softly. "But I do know that we will live. Don't you?" 

He shrugged helplessly. "I don't know anymore; how can I beat him? He's taken so much from me; how do I combat him?" 

The shaky words scared her to her heart, and she moved closer to him. Their hands brushed accidentally, sending a shiver up her spine. "With everything you have. You still have Remus, and Sirius, and you parents by your side, Harry; they'll never leave you. And Ron and Hermione will do anything for you," she said, letting her knuckles stroke his hand gently.

His fingers twined with hers. "What about you?" he murmured, gazing at her with dark eyes. 

She felt heat come unbidden to her face as he looked at her. "I'll never leave you, Harry; I promised you that."

He watched her for a moment, eyes searching hers. His free hand came up to trace the planes of her face, calloused against the smoothness of her face. "Are you sure?"

His query was no more than a breath, and yet it struck her harder than any shout. He was insecure in her love for him; she should have expected something like this, when he had just lost someone so dear. Still, it stung for a moment until she realized he wasn't trying to hurt her; he was only trying to reassure himself. 

Gently, she leaned forward and kissed him briefly. "I love you, Harry," she murmured against his lips. "I will never leave you." 

Abruptly, he took her fully into his arms, kissing her with a desperation she had never felt from him before as he reached up and pulled her hair from its ribbon, tangling a hand in her dark strands. She opened up to him, feeling nothing but his love for her mixed with the anguish and sorrow of the last few days. It was when he pushed her flat to the bed and his lips began to travel lower that she realized that she hadn't heard a word from Tom since the night of her vision of Remus. Blissful freedom blossomed within her, and she twined her fingers in Harry's thick hair as they nearly lost themselves to the sorrow of the night. 

~*~

The next morning was remarkably calm, considering all things; Harry and Ginny made it to Kings Cross without difficulty, and the glances they shared did nothing but cause gentle blushing. Ginny herself wasn't confused or frazzled; she accepted him as she had accepted everything else, and she wasn't afraid. 

Her parents were waiting with Ron and Hermione at Platform 3/4, somber and quietly sympathetic. It was a silent farewell; both her mother and father embraced all of them in turn, holding on tightly, as if they didn't want to let go. Ginny said nothing and just held her parents, knowing what she might lose very soon. 

After giving their farewells, the four teens got on the train and found their usual compartment. Ginny was struck with memories of past journeys to Hogwarts, remembering last year's in particular. She had had such a different perspective on her life then; how could things change so quickly? Maybe she was finally making the transition from teen to adult; it seemed she realized what was really important in the grand scheme of her life. 

Once their things were all settled in, Hermione, Harry, and Ron stood. "We have to go to the prefect meeting, Ginny," Ron said quietly. "We'll be back soon."

Briefly feeling a slight amount of fear at being left alone, she nodded slightly, meeting Harry's gaze. Inside his green eyes, he looked as if he didn't want to leave her, like he would collapse if she wasn't right with him, and her heart hurt. "I'll be here when you get back," she said softly, more for Harry than anyone else. 

He gave her a slight smile, which looked foreign on his masked face after the last few days, and the three of them left the compartment silently. Ginny sighed, leaning back in her plush seat, and gazed out the window. The train gave a violent shudder as it began to chug out of the station; she could hear the peppy chatter of her fellow students through the walls. It almost sickened her as the train picked up speed, passing London in a near-blur. How could they be so cheerful? Didn't they understand what was happening within their world? 

Her disgust was short-lived; she knew it was ridiculous to ask those questions. Her peers may not fully grasp what was happening, but they were aware of it. They were just trying to live their lives as best as they could, like Remus had told her and Harry to do.  

Eyes drifting shut, she curled closer to the cushions of her chair, wrapping her arms around herself. Sleep would revive her; last night's brief nap had been the first real sleep she had gotten in days. Hopefully whatever was keeping Tom at bay would stay put; not only did she want sleep, she wanted to stay as close to Harry as possible. 

_You amuse me, Virginia. The werewolf is dead; another one of Harry's loved ones gone because of him. Don't you think about who could be next? Maybe it's you. _

Still she slept. 

Hushed voices stirred her as she felt the train take a gentle curve. Tom's words were clear in her mind, causing a shiver to run through her body. 

A hand lay upon her head gently; she felt a familiar warmth in the seat next to her. Eyes opening slowly, she met Harry's weary gaze. "Is he there?" he asked quietly, unnoticed by Ron and Hermione, who were having a soft conversation in the seats across from them. 

There was no need to define "he." She nodded. Harry let his hand drop from her head to her shoulder, wrapping an arm around her shoulders; his other hand slipped into hers. Immediately Tom's presence disappeared from her mind, and she shifted closer to Harry's warm form, both perplexed and relieved. "Harry?" she murmured. 

"Hmm?" he said, running his thumb back and forth across her knuckles. 

She bit her lip, looking up at him beneath her lashes. "When you're near me, he's not there," she said softly, catching Hermione's ear. The older girl glanced at Ginny, nodding briefly as Ron continued to talk. 

Harry's gaze didn't change. "I know, Ginny." He let out a long sigh; she could feel it reverberate through his limbs. "We need to talk about that. But not now."

Heart pounding against her ribs, she continued to watch Harry's expression as the distance to Hogwarts lessened. His face was smooth; only she could see the inner scars of grief, pain, vengeance. They were invisible compared to the stark scar on his forehead. He gave nothing away, and she was overcome; what could he know? Had someone found something for her troubles? 

She could only hope so; she was not about to break her promises. 

~*~

The Great Hall was awash in candlelight as Harry entered, Ginny at his side and Hermione and Ron right behind them. It was a soft, comforting glow that gave Harry support as he walked past the staff table, struggling to ignore the empty seat between Snape and McGonagall. It was hard to come back to a school that reminded him so much of those he had lost; he couldn't think of the Great Hall without being assaulted with memories of Remus' stories from his school days; the rows his parents had in front of the student body, the pranks the Marauders used to pull. Harry was quite tense by the time they found their seats; only Ginny's hand in his kept him from bolting. 

_It isn't right,_ he thought as the Sorting Hat was brought out and began to sing. _Remus didn't deserve anything bad that happened to him; why was he chosen?_

It was a question that had haunted him for days since Remus' death. He couldn't answer it, and he didn't know who to go to for answers, which was frustrating. Maybe there wasn't an answer. Death was intangible, though ever prevalent in his life, and he barely knew where to start with it. How did it choose who was to go and who was to stay? Was it a matter of fate or just by chance?   

He shook his head slightly, clearing his mind; he had to stop with the morbid thoughts, before he drove himself crazy. Feeling Ginny squeeze his hand gently underneath the table, his eyes drifted to her profile, heart speeding up as he watched her. 

It was like Hermione had said; his presence blocked Voldemort from Ginny's mind. Now all there was to do was tell Ginny of what had been found, and wait for her reaction. It had to be soon; it had to be tonight. 

He had to confess; he didn't mind having to do this particular protection spell with Ginny. After the intoxicating experience of last night, it was all he could do not to have her in the middle of the Sorting. And while they hadn't gone all the way last night, it had almost gone that far; he had stopped them before he had completely lost himself. But he had wanted to; he had wanted to desperately. Ginny made him whole, made him feel nothing but the good in his life; he was willing to do whatever necessary to save her. 

Finally, the Sorting was over; everyone was ready for supper, but Dumbledore stood at the staff table, a somber expression in his usually cheerful eyes. A silence blanketed the hall as he moved his gaze across the sea of students. Harry's stomach knotted as he felt Ginny tense; he knew what was coming. 

The headmaster cleared his throat. "Welcome back, everyone. I'm sure you're hungry, but I must make my usual speech; it is more important than usual." 

Everyone kept their eyes on Dumbledore. Harry's lungs constricted tightly. 

"First, it is my regret to say that due to the conflict with Voldemort, I must cancel all Quidditch matches and Hogsmeade visits until further notice," Dumbledore said firmly, eliciting gasps of horror and disbelief from around the Hall. Ron himself let out a shout as Harry blinked incredulously.

That was something he hadn't expected at all. 

Waiting for the cries to subside, Dumbledore stayed silent until quiet was restored. "It is for the safety of the school; I would rather not do it, but I must. The Forbidden Forest is off-limits, especially this year. Mr. Filch has added fifty items to his list, so you may check that if you wish."

He paused, and picked up his goblet; Harry felt his stomach fall to his feet. "You may have noticed the empty seat at the staff table tonight; it is my deep sorrow to inform you that Remus Lupin was captured and killed by Voldemort this past summer," he said softly. 

The room was completely silent; Harry glanced around and saw many of his peers with stricken looks upon their faces. 

Dumbledore continued steadily, the light in his eyes completely gone. "He was a wonderful man, an example of one who lived through turmoil and remained hopeful for the future. A man who had a gift with teaching, he is something any person would wish to have in their life. We mourn his loss; will everyone please stand and raise their glasses to an excellent man?" 

Grief stabbed Harry as he shuffled to his feet, the goblet in his hand shaking silently. Ginny kept their free hands interlaced, keeping him grounded even as tears slid down her cheeks. As Dumbledore drank, so did every student in the hall, including the Slytherins. Harry felt an ache blossom in his heart as he drank; was this all the tribute he would be able to give to Remus, a man who never strayed? It hurt to think so. 

That was the final deciding factor; as everyone sat, and the food appeared in front of them, Harry leaned over and put his mouth near Ginny's ear. 

"We need to talk to Dumbledore after dinner, Ginny. Will you wait with me?" he asked quietly, briefly brushing his lips across her skin. 

She turned her face to meet his eyes; he saw the love and pain shining in her gaze. "Of course, Harry," she replied, leaning forward and kissing his cheek quickly. 

He nodded, and turned to his plate, a latent need for vengeance filling him. 

It was time to fight back. 

~*~

A/N: Please don't hate me, all you Remus lovers. I am a Remus lover myself, and I didn't want to kill him. It didn't even occur to me until I wrote Chapter Three, and now I have to finish the job. How could he live with himself, I ask you? *sigh* I'm sure I'll be flamed, so don't be afraid to join the club.

Many thanks to Anne, who was a wonderful support during the trying days of Remus. *sniff* Also, many apologies to Lizzie; I shall never sin again. Please read and review. Or send death threats, whichever you prefer. . 


	5. Choices

Chapter Five: Moment

~*~   
  
  
  
Ginny had lost her ability to breathe. 

Air would not fill her lungs; she had tried numerous times to revive her oxygen supply, but her body would not cooperate with her. A sort-of shock had blanketed her whole self, sending her into a numb plane of existence. It was like she had separated from her physical self and was watching the drama play out from a different point of view. Distantly, she felt a hand on her forehead, fingers on her wrist, voices in her ear, but nothing registered. It was too much for her to take in. 

Albus Dumbledore had just told her how to cancel out her connection with Voldemort. 

And it was _nothing_ like what she had expected. 

His exact words were calm, unattached; something like, "Harry will perform a protection spell on you, and then you will both perform a physical possession to nullify Voldemort's control." 

She had grabbed the meaning of "physical possession" almost immediately, and that was what led to her current state of shock. She and Harry had to... 

Oh dear. 

The visualization of it came to her in a flash. With a jolt, she was breathing, her heart was pounding, a blush suffused her whole body, and she was back to herself. The warm blue eyes of the headmaster gleamed at her, twinkling in a way she didn't appreciate. 

Holy hell, her _headmaster_ was discussing this with her! 

Mortification mixed with her embarrassment and surprise; she had to look down at her lap, knowing her face matched the hue of her hair by now. How could Harry take this? 

Why wasn't he as horrified as she was? 

"Ginny, are you all right?" 

His voice was gentle, soothing her slightly. 

_Slightly._

She tried to find her voice. "Yes, I'm fine," she murmured, voice no more than a fast breath. Braving a glance up, she met Harry's gaze and saw a hidden nervousness inside the cool green. It reassured her, and she forced herself to look at the headmaster again. 

"Who found this spell, again?" she asked weakly, damning herself for not being more composed. 

"Hermione, of course. It was while she was here," Dumbledore said promptly. 

Ginny's stomach churned; _Hermione_ found it? 

Bloody hell, _Hermione_ found this, a spell where she and Harry had to have sex to save her soul. The bookish, quiet girl who was her best friend; where did she find this? 

"Is it the only option?" she asked, searching for strands of logic in her frazzled mind. 

"It's the only possible one; we haven't found anything else for your particular case," the headmaster said. 

She was a case. A freak show. Merlin, how was she supposed to decide something like this? 

"You haven't said anything, Ginny," Harry said quietly. 

She glanced at him; his fringe had fallen into his eyes, hiding his gaze from her. Her heart hurt suddenly, and she wished desperately for some sort of logical thought to hit her; he obviously was ready to do this for her and was only waiting for her answer. 

Swallowing, she wrenched her eyes back to Dumbledore. "How would we do this?" she asked slowly. 

The headmaster's eyebrows lifted in surprise, but he answered her anyway. "We would use Harry's Head Boy rooms, since they are most convenient. It would have to be soon; I leave it to you to decide when." 

Biting her bottom lip, she furrowed her brow. This was a step of extreme proportions; was she ready for something like this? 

Her eyes strayed to Harry's dark profile once more, and again her heart felt as if it would shatter. There wasn't a choice where Harry was concerned; it was his safety, his life she was wrestling with. Her decision was made. 

"I'll do it," she said softly. 

Harry's gaze snapped to her as Dumbledore leaned forward. "Are you sure, Ginny?" he asked soberly. 

She met Harry's dark eyes. "Yes." 

Dumbledore sat back, looking satisfied with her answer. "You two can decide when you want to do this, and then let me know so Harry and I can start working on the spell," he said. 

Ginny nodded with Harry, eyes still trained on him. His gaze was on the headmaster now, cool and distant. "We'll let you know soon, sir," he said quietly as he got up from his chair. 

Standing, Ginny waited for Harry to head for the door before saying a weak farewell to the headmaster, and following him. The stairs were dark and cool, steadying her mind as thoughts slowed down to a normal pace. The nape of Harry's neck entranced her as she walked behind him, heading into the corridor. 

She was going to go all the way with Harry for the sake of her soul. Oh, this was ironic! Back at Christmas, she had been willing; if he hadn't stopped them, this whole problem could have been a moot point! She had to talk to Hermione; what was so special about this spell? 

"Ginny." 

With a start, she noticed Harry had stopped and she had continued to walk a few paces before he called to her. She turned to face him, feeling another blush rise to her face as his eyes traveled her face before settling at her gaze. "Yes, Harry?" she asked softly. 

His eyes were hooded, shaded from her gaze; she could almost feel the barriers fly up around him. "You don't have to do it if you don't want to, honestly," he commented quietly. "This is your decision completely; if you don't want to, we won't." 

She had to smile; Harry was always worried about everyone else other than himself. Did he understand that this was the only way to save them both? Even now, she could feel Tom clawing at her defenses, struggling to get to the front of her mind. She needed to be free of this. 

Besides, the way of doing it wasn't repulsive at all. 

A chill ran down her spine as she stepped towards him, laying a hand on his arm. "Harry, I want to. What do you think we were doing last night?" she teased lightly, feeling a blush heat her face. "I'm not losing anything that I wasn't planning on losing anyway. And if it helps me, then why not?" 

Their eyes met, and she could feel her knees weaken as heat pooled in her stomach; the look in his eyes burned her. "Why not," he repeated quietly. 

The corridor lapsed into silence; she felt tension emitting from every pore of his skin, and wondered just how long he had been thinking about this. She was having trouble breathing; the air was thick with feeling, an unspoken nervousness. If it was this hard to talk about, how would they be in the actual time and place? 

She blushed for what seemed like the hundredth time in as many seconds. Just picturing Harry and her doing _everything_ was mind-boggling. 

"I suppose we should get back to the tower," Harry said abruptly, startling her from her thoughts. 

Nodding, she sighed softly. "Yes, you're right. It wouldn't be right for the Head Boy to be out after curfew, would it?" she joked, smiling at him as they began to walk down the corridor. 

He cracked a weak smile, but it didn't reach his eyes. None of his rare smiles ever reached his eyes these days, and she was bereft without seeing his eyes sparkle. The silence was almost unbearable as they walked, not touching or even looking at the other. 

The thought of not sleeping in the same room as him shook her; what if he did something to himself, and she wasn't there to stop it? What if her dreams came back, haunting her with pictures of death and loss? 

_Hold me, please,_ she pleaded silently with the stoic man at her side. _I can't bear to leave you now._

As if he had heard her, he halted mid-step, only a few yards away from the waiting Fat Lady. As he turned his eyes to her, she saw the same desperation inside him; he echoed her, complemented her need, made her jolt with the want of him around her. His face seemed hollow and blank at first, but by now she could see underneath the mask, see the pain of being alive without Remus in his skin. It was much like what she had seen a little over a year ago, when she helped Harry through the death of Sirius. 

Suddenly his arms were around her, pinning her to the wall with his weight. His mouth was hot on hers, painfully desperate and filled with an unending sense of anguish. She melted into him, wanting to curl up and disappear into his warmth, letting him push against her. There was wetness on her face and neck, but whose it was was anyone's guess. She didn't care; she just let herself be kissed and comforted. She held him and opened up, letting his whole self pour into her through her lips, and for right then, it was enough.   
  


~*~

Hermione wasn't stupid. When Harry and Ginny had returned from Dumbledore's office last night, she had seen and felt the tension between them, a tension that had not existed only a few hours ago. It had only heightened in the morning at breakfast, when Ginny sat next to Harry and held his hand, but wouldn't meet his eyes. And when Harry, Ron, and herself had left for their first class of the day, she could see the relief on Ginny's face, however slight it might have been. 

No, something had happened last night. Hermione was determined to find out what. 

Defense Against the Dark Arts was their first class, much to Hermione's displeasure. She could almost see the wheels in Harry's head turn as they entered the classroom; she knew what he was thinking. Who would be the new professor, now that Remus was gone? 

Remus was gone. And it was never clearer or more painful than when she sat in her usual seat and saw an empty desk at the front of the room. 

Ron stiffened at her side; she put a hand on his arm, squeezing gently. Harry did nothing but stare into space, knuckles white underneath his desk. More of their classmates filed in, some stopping briefly at them to say hello. None expressed condolence, but who really knew how close Harry and Remus had been, other than the Order? 

They were all sad; Hermione could see that. But did any of them really understand what kind of a loss Remus was to the world? 

The tension radiated off of Harry as the class waited for someone to come in. His face was a mask, but by now Hermione could read him like a book. He was nervous, unhappy, anguished; she didn't know how to help him, and she wanted to help him desperately. 

The door to the classroom opened suddenly; everyone turned their heads to see the new professor. A sweep of dark robes, and Professor Dumbledore walked in, a tired and welcoming smile on his face. 

"I apologize for being late, class. I was held up by Mr. Filch," he said as he walked up to the front of the room. 

Hermione couldn't believe her eyes; the headmaster was going to teach? At her side, Harry started, an unreadable look on his face. 

Dumbledore's light gaze traveled the shocked class, resting a little longer on the trio in the back. "In light of the surprise of Professor Lupin's death, I did not have time to find a suitible replacement. Therefore, I will be teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts this year. This level is particularly difficult, but I'm sure you will all do very well." 

He continued to speak, but Hermione was more concerned with the man sitting on her left. The tension surrounding Harry still hadn't faded; if anything, it had heightened with the appearance of the headmaster. For the first time in her life, Hermione tuned out a professor and leaned towards Harry. 

"What's wrong with you, Harry?" she murmured, causing Harry to look at her in a muted sort of surprise. 

"What do you mean?" he replied softly. 

She raised an eyebrow as Ron leaned into the conversation. 

"Ever since you came back from Dumbledore's office last night, you've been really tense. What happened?" 

Harry glanced at the headmaster and then back at Hermione. "I'll tell you later, I promise." 

* 

Later had been an understatement. She didn't get a chance to corner him until after dinner, due to his adept avoiding skills and the progression of her classes. Having one more class than her two best friends, she didn't get to dinner until late and by then Harry had already eaten and gone. 

Ginny was the only one of the four to be at the table; she informed Hermione that Harry and Ron had gone out for a bit of a fly with Dean and Seamus. So, Hermione and Ginny finished dinner together, talking briefly. Hermione could feel the same tension coming from Ginny as from Harry, and it had reminded her of her mission. 

After dinner, Ginny left Hermione in the common room to take a walk outside. Soon after, the boys came in, brooms in hand. Hermione was already at work on her homework for Defense (a foot-long essay on pagan curses, ironically enough) when they came in, Ron and Harry coming to sit by her directly. 

She didn't look up. "Well, have a nice fly?" 

Ron slid his arm around her shoulders. "Yeah; it was good to get back in the air. It's a real shame Quidditch was canceled," he said. 

"And you, Harry? Did you enjoy it?" she asked, glancing up for a moment. 

He shrugged. "I suppose so." 

"Ginny was going out to take a walk; did you see her?" she said, gazing at him to gauge his reaction to the mention of his girlfriend. 

She thought she saw a flash of something in his eyes, but his face stayed perfectly smooth. "No; she must have gone to the lake or something," he replied tonelessly. 

Heaving a sigh, Hermione set her quill down and looked Harry fully in the eye. "Are you going to tell us what happened in Dumbledore's office now?" she asked. 

He hesitated, and she felt Ron tense on her shoulders. Harry's eyes went from her to Ron and back again. "We told Ginny about a protection spell," he said slowly, eyes averted from Ron's gaze. 

Ron jumped in surprise as her eyes widened, noting Harry's choice of words. Ron didn't know about the spell she had found; maybe it was better he didn't know the particulars. 

She found herself getting nervous. "Did you decide anything?" she asked softly, apprehensively waiting his answer. 

"She agreed to do it." 

Ron let out a cry of joy as Hermione leaned back in her seat, suddenly understanding a lot of the odd behavior between Harry and Ginny this past day. If she and Ron were put in that kind of situation, she didn't know if she would be able to look him in the eye either. 

"What do you have to do, Harry?" Ron asked excitedly. 

Harry shot a pleading look at Hermione, who swooped in immediately. "It's just a spell, an old pagan protection spell," she said quickly. "I found it a few weeks ago." 

Ron grinned down at her. "Of course you did; I knew you would." 

She flushed slightly as he kissed her cheek and stood. "Give me your broom, Harry; I'll put them away," he said, taking Harry's broom and heading upstairs to the dormitory. 

Fixing Harry with a knowing gaze, she shut her Defense textbook. "Is that why you and Ginny won't look at each other?" 

A red tinge came to his cheeks. "I can't help it. I don't know what to say to her. It feels like I'm forcing her into doing this, like she's only doing it because she has to," he muttered. 

Sympathy filled Hermione, and she put a hand on his arm. "Of course she wants to do it, Harry. Are you telling me you haven't done anything..." she trailed off, blushing as Harry's face darkened. 

She didn't expect him to answer that query, but he did. "Only once," he said, voice no more than a whisper. "The night before last, before we came to Hogwarts." 

Remaining silent, she was actually shocked. He and Ginny were always so close to each other; she had assumed that they had done more than he just admitted. 

Abruptly, he looked up at her, something akin to anger in his eyes. "We haven't had the chance to do much, Hermione," he snapped quietly. "She's been possessed by the mortal enemy of the wizarding world and we've broken up twice in the past six months. That doesn't leave time for much." 

She straightened. "Excuse me! I would know that if you told me what was going on in your life instead of hiding it," she retorted, feeling defensive at his sudden attack. 

He looked as if he was going to storm away from her, but suddenly the anger melted from his face. Averting his eyes to his feet, a sigh rushed through him. "I'm sorry. It's not you I'm angry at; I just hate feeling like this, like I'm helpless against everything," he said quietly, putting his head in his hands. 

Her hands moved to his back; she rubbed soothingly, feeling rather helpless herself. "You're not helpless. We're all here for you," she said. 

"I know. But what if..." he trailed off, sounding lost. 

He _was_ lost, she realized. And Ginny was most likely feeling the same way. 

"Harry, go find Ginny." 

He raised his head, meeting her gaze in surprise. She smiled slightly, patting him on the back. "Go find her, and talk to her. She needs you right now; she's just as confused," she said softly. 

Gazing at her for another moment, a small smile crossed his face. After reaching over to squeeze her arm, he was out of the common room in a blur. 

And when Ron came back to her, Hermione wrapped her arms around him and told him she loved him.   
  


~*~   
  


It was near curfew, but Harry didn't care. He raced through the doors of the entrance hall, feeling the light September breeze hitting his heated skin and relishing the coolness for a moment. Walking down the steps onto the grassy lawn, he scanned the grounds, looking for a certain redhead. Hermione had finally hammered some sort of sense into him, and he had to make up for any lost time. 

It was the first time he had been thinking clearly for about a week. Since Remus' death, his mind had been muddled, confused; last night's meeting with Dumbledore hadn't helped. How was he supposed to have reacted when Ginny said yes so quickly? And then he kissed her in the corridor... 

He was just confused. He needed to talk to her, to make sure she would be ok. If he was this distressed, how must she be feeling? 

Summer lingered in the air; it was a warm night, a perfect night for being outside. He went towards the lake, spotting a small form sitting near the shores. Red hair reflected in the blistering sun, still high enough in the sky to see clearly by. Approaching her slowly, he tried to rationalize anything to say to her; what could he say? They hadn't spoken all day. 

His tread was nearly silent as he came to her side. She had her knees tucked up to her chin, arms wrapped around her legs. As he sat down next to her, her eyes met his for the first time that day. 

"Hi," he greeted quietly, stretching his legs out in front of him and leaning on his hands. 

Smiling weakly, she shifted closer to him. "Hi." 

"How are you doing?" he asked, telling himself it was better to start out slow. 

Ginny shook her head. "I think I should be asking you," she said softly. 

That was Ginny; all she did was worry for him, for her family, for the rest of the world. She had to think about herself once in a while, didn't she? 

"No, Gin. I want to talk about you," he said softly but firmly. "We haven't talked about what happened last night." 

She kept quiet, gazing out onto the placid lake. Her hair, pulled back by its usual ribbon, ruffled in the breeze, a few tendrils framing her face. He watched her profile as the silence blanketed them, seeing the smooth face and wondering what she hid underneath her own façade. 

"I'm not scared of you or what we're going to do. I'm just nervous, you know?" she said abruptly, turning to meet his gaze. 

Oh, yes. He knew _exactly _what she meant.

But he couldn't think of anything brilliant to tell her so, to communicate his empathy. All he could do was agree. 

"Yes, I know what you mean," he said quietly. 

Glancing at him quickly, Ginny sighed. The ring on her hand sparkled brightly in the sun as she twisted it, something he had noticed she did habitually. It never occurred to him why, and he dove at the chance for conversation. 

"You play with your ring a lot, Ginny," he commented, startling her. 

She blushed lightly, a small smile crossing her face. "It's a habit now, I guess. Sometimes I think it will make me think better, if I use it," she confessed softly, meeting his eyes from beneath her dark lashes. "It makes me feel better to have it."

His heart felt full to bursting; not with the usual sadness, but with a sense of love and warmth that came from her words. He never fully knew what the ring meant or represented to her, and now he felt like he was one step closer to knowing. It made him feel less nervous about what he had to say, settled his jumping insides. 

With a soft shuffle, she leaned against him, her cheek dropping to his shoulder. "I never take it off, you know," she said softly. 

He slid an arm around her, bringing her even closer to him. Her warmth penetrated him, making him feel light-headed. "Does it mean that much, Ginny?" he asked quietly, looking down at her head. 

Lithe neck arching, she met his gaze. "Of course it does," she said, eyes dark with something intangible. "This was my only hope for a time. It was the only thing that kept me going; it was a promise of the future." 

Heat burned through him, and he marveled at her. "How can you just _say_ stuff like that?" he asked incredulously. 

A small smile graced her mouth. "Because I mean it. It's not bad to say what you mean, Harry." 

Well, then why not? Why not say what he meant? 

"Do you really want to do this spell, Ginny?" he blurted out quickly, the queasiness coming back with a vengeance. "I won't force you; I don't want you to do this if you don't want to." 

"But this is the only way to help us," she said fiercely, her eyes flashing. 

He let out a deep breath. "But if you aren't ready, then it's not right." 

She processed this for a moment, eyes going to the lake once more. Her silence shook him, and he was ready to speak again when her eyes came to him abruptly. 

"Don't... Don't you want me, Harry?" she asked, voice constricted. Her eyes shone gently in the approaching sunset. 

Her question rocked him; his muscles went slack, jaw dropping in surprise. How... 

How could she think he wouldn't want her? 

Pulling her into his lap suddenly, he took her surprised face between his hands and brought her forehead to his. "I... Merlin, Ginny, you have no idea how much..." he stuttered, heat rushing to his face. 

A blush colored her cheeks as she adjusted herself, her legs across his thighs. Jumpy and nervous, all the while Harry felt amazed at how she just _fit_ with him. It was incredible to him, and he grazed her smooth face with the pads of his thumbs. 

"I... I love you," he murmured, heart pounding painfully against his ribs. "You have no idea how much I want you." 

His voice was nothing but a low whisper, but she heard every word. Face flushing to match her hair, she shut her eyes, breath coming fast. "I've waited so long to hear that," she whispered. "You would write it, but you never said it."

Guilt crept into his heart, and he brought her lips to his briefly. "I'm sorry." 

Her hands slid against his robes up to the nape of his neck, causing him to shiver slightly with her touch on his skin. "Don't be sorry, Harry. I knew you would say it when you were ready." Her lips grazed his cheek, eyes still shut. 

She was so close to him, so close... It was almost suffocating. And he welcomed it, wanted the opportunity to drown in her. His arms slid down to wrap around her waist, drawing her completely against him. Her mouth was by his ear, warm breath causing the most maddening sensations to drive through him. 

"I know I'm young," she said quietly, lips brushing his earlobe as she spoke, "but you're only a year older. And I love you. I don't want to be away from you ever again if I don't have to. We can't let him beat us, not when we're so close." 

"The only thing he doesn't understand: love," Harry said quietly, remembering his last words with Remus with a jump of his heart. 

He felt her smile on his skin. "And you have plenty of it all around you."

"I know," he replied. 

And suddenly, he did know. He did understand. There was love all around him, some latent and some obvious. It was exactly how Remus had said; he had many to lean upon. 

A sigh fluttered through her. "Maybe we should go in; it must be close to curfew," she said softly, tone reluctant. 

Harry pulled back slightly, gazing at her glowing face. "You're right, we should."

Still, either of them moved. He didn't want her to leave his arms, not after all that had passed between them tonight. 

An idea sprang hesitantly in his mind, causing him to inhale sharply. 

Could they maybe have one night without the pressures of a spell? Was that allowed? 

Of course it was, a voice in his mind nagged. The Hermione Voice. 

The thought of Hermione telling him all this made him squirm internally, but the look in Ginny's eyes made all thought halt completely. It was... It was one he had never seen before. 

"Harry..." she said breathlessly, tone making every muscle in his body jump. "Do we... Does the spell need..." Her cheeks flushed. "Oh hell," she muttered. 

Abruptly, it dawned on him that she was trying to ask him the same thing he was asking himself. Did they need to be... Well, "pure" for the spell to work? 

Before he realized what he was doing, he was shaking his head. "I don't think so, Ginny," he said slowly, amazed at his own coherent words. 

She inhaled deeply, licking her dry lips quickly. "I don't want to leave you tonight," she said steadily. 

"I don't want you to," he replied instantly, insides knotting from something _completely_ opposite of queasiness. 

Biting her bottom lip, she looked at him from beneath her lashes. Her gaze held something nameless, yet he understood completely. With a care he didn't know he possessed, he set her from his legs onto the ground and stood, holding out a hand to her. She quickly accepted, and soon they were walking back to the castle, facing a brilliant sunset of red and gold and grasping each other's hands tightly. Harry's mind reeled; this could not be happening, he had to be dreaming...

"Harry?" 

He glanced at her as they entered the entrance hall. "Hmm?" 

Her face was a becoming shade of red. "How do I get to your room?" she asked very softly, almost so he couldn't hear her. 

Blinking, his mind went blank. How was she supposed to get up there? It was only accessible through the boys' dormitory steps. 

An idea dawned on him, and he grinned slightly. "Ask Hermione to perform a Confusion Charm. She's good at them," he said, remembering how his friend had gotten into his dormitory last term, after Wormtail's capture. 

Ginny blinked, and he saw her smile grow as the realization hit her. Laughing softly, she squeezed his hand. "Maybe I'll have her teach me a trick or two, hmm?" She raised a suggestive eyebrow. 

His stomach did flip-flops as they approached the Fat Lady. What was he in for tonight? 

*

Harry left Ginny in the common room and raced to his Head Boy rooms immediately, only stopping to talk to Ron for a few moments. He had needed to at least make his bed and shower before Ginny got up here, even if it wouldn't matter when she did get here. 

So, half an hour after leaving her, he was freshly showered, hair still damp, and the room was slightly neater. His nervousness seemed to grow as the minutes passed; he paced, he sat, he paced again. He didn't know what to do, what to say; all he knew was that Ginny was going to be here, and they were going to do...

Unknowable things. Unimaginable, impossible, wonderful things. 

Blood soared straight through his veins at the thoughts running through his head, and he shut his eyes. If he kept this up, soon he would need another shower. 

Suddenly, the door creaked open. 

His eyes flew open, and he saw her slip into the room, dressed in the normal black robes, hair tied back at the nape of her neck. Closing the door quietly, she turned and met his eyes, a small smile on her face. 

"I'm sorry I was so long," she said quietly. "Hermione and I had some things to discuss before she would do the charm."

His eyes narrowed. "Like what?" he asked suspiciously. 

The glint in her eyes was teasing. "Oh, she wanted to know all the sordid details and such," she commented lightly, coming towards him. 

The look on his face must have been amusing, because she laughed as he looked at her in shock. "I was joking," she said. "She just wanted to make sure I knew what to do about things." 

He gulped nervously. "And did you?" he asked thickly. 

The smile grew as she came close enough to touch. "Look at my family, Harry; do you think my mother would let me go this far in life without teaching me a few things?" she teased. 

A smile to match hers curved his mouth. "I should have known," he said, reaching out and pulling her to him. 

Slipping her arms around his shoulders, she smiled wider. "Maybe," she whispered, pulling his face down to hers and kissing him. 

He tightened his grip on her, kissing her back with a fierceness he hadn't known he possessed until a few moments ago. Just seeing her walk into his room with that smile had undone him, driving him crazy. Her mouth opened to him and he felt everything she felt, knew how to move against her. Fingers tugged his hair, spiking it up as he felt the curve of her hip through the thick cloth of her robes. It was losing himself inside her, and if it got better than this, he didn't know if he could handle it. 

Her hands slid down his chest to find the claps of his robes, and suddenly he felt the need to make sure, to ask her one more time. He pulled away from her mouth reluctantly, meeting her glazed eyes firmly. Breathing labored, he looked down at her flushed face. "Are... Are you sure?" he asked huskily. 

She gazed at him for a moment, eyes dark and warm. Then, she reached for one of his hands and pulled him close to her, placing his hand over the scar she carried on her heart, an echo of his own. The feeling of her heart beating under his touch, matching the pace of his own caused the breath to leave him. 

"I love you, Harry," she said, voice never wavering. "Love me." 

Keeping his hand entwined with hers over her heart, he slipped his other hand into her hair and kissed her fiercely, everything leaving his mind except for the frantic need threatening to drown him. Then he felt her fingers in his hair and on his robes and all logical thought left him. Surrendering to himself, he took her in his arms and promised silently to never let her go. 

~*~

A/N: Forgive me for my tardiness! You have no idea how hard this was to write, especially the last two scenes. Many, many thanks to Anne, who helps me at all times, and to Lizzie, just for being around! Please read and review! 


	6. Eye of the Storm

_Author's Note: In case anyone missed it, there is a smutty outtake to Chapter Five courtesy of Ashwinder. It can be found at Checkmated! under the penname Tosca. If you're interested, check it out, and give thanks to Ashwinder, as she is wonderful! ._

Chapter Six: Eye of the Storm

Hermione struggled to hide her smile as Ron came stomping down the stairs into the common room, a scowl on his face. She had a feeling it wasn't the early rise that had him so cranky. 

"Why the hell hasn't he got up yet? Breakfast is only for an hour more, and then we have Defense! Is he doing this on purpose?" he asked testily, shooting her a look as he came towards her seat near the dormant hearth. 

With a soft smile, she shrugged. "Ron, maybe he's just tired. It's been a hard week, you know," she said calmly, reaching out for his hand. A girlish giggle bubbled in her throat as she spoke, but she managed to hold it back. 

Ron shook his head in disbelief, plopping down next to her with a loud sigh. "It's not like him, though. Weird, not having him in the same room as me. Now I don't know what happens to him; if he has nightmares, and other stuff." 

Resting her head on his broad shoulder, Hermione closed her eyes for a moment. She had never heard Ron talk like this about Harry, and she wanted to relish the moment. In her excitement to begin her seventh year, she had completely forgotten that Harry and Ron would be split up for the first time in years. Now she realized how hard it must have been for both of them. 

Although she was sure Harry was having _quite_ the morning without Ron, and it was probably better if Ron wasn't there. 

A blush rose on her cheeks, and she sighed softly, a small grin on her face. When Ginny had come to her last night with her whispered plea of assistance, she had almost died of shock. With a quick check of her notes to make sure the spell would still work, she had made sure Ginny performed a contraceptive charm and sent her off with a sort of motherly pride. Of course she'd had to distract the common room so Ginny would have enough time to get up the stairs, but that wasn't so difficult, what with the Creevey boys around. Them and their cameras. 

All through the night she had been afraid that she would hear Ron's screams of bloodshed from the other side of the tower; the thought of Ron walking in on Ginny and Harry's first time petrified her to her core. But the night had been peaceful, and Ron was only looking a little disgruntled. Her friends were safe, for the most part. 

Now, if only they would come downstairs and reassure Ron! 

"Hermione, where's Ginny?" 

She sucked in a breath; she had thought this might come up. "She must be still in bed; I haven't seen her this morning." 

Looking up at his freckled face, she saw the brows come together, a frown on his face. Immediately, she jumped up, pulling him with her. "Let's go to breakfast, Ron," she said cheerfully. "I'm sure Harry will be down soon enough." 

His dark eyes went from her face to the stairs and back. Pulling gently, he tugged his hand from her grip. "I'll just go and try him one more time, and then we'll leave him to go hungry," he said lightly, moving towards the stairs. 

Panic rose within her. "But Ron-" 

He turned back to her, a suspicious look on his face. "What's wrong with that? It's not like he's doing something illegal or anything," he said as he disappeared into the darkness of the stairwell. 

Wringing her hands, Hermione sat down with a huff. All she could hope was Harry had the mind to put up a Locking Charm on the 

door. A Silencing Charm, too. 

_Especially_ that.   
  


When Ginny finally woke, it was to Ron's shouts, coarse and hard against the calm of her mind. A groan left her throat as the warm body draped across her shifted and left her completely, leaving her chilled even under the thick blankets of Harry's bed. 

_Harry's bed._

Opening her eyes slowly, her sleep-blurred vision revealed the maroons and gold of the Gryffindor Head Boy room, shining and bright in the sunrise filtering in through the windows. Her gaze drifted to the door, where she saw a dark-haired figure speaking quickly through it, muscled back facing her. A shiver ran through her, and she buried herself in the blankets, a drowsy smile on her lips. 

"Bloody hell, Ron! Can't I have a lie in for once?" Harry exclaimed, voice still harsh with sleep. 

"But there's barely an hour left for breakfast, Harry!" 

Ginny giggled softly as Harry cursed fluently under his breath and muttered a spell. Immediately Ron's voice was silenced. She let out a sigh of relief. 

"Ginny, you have to awake after _that_," Harry commented, amusement in his tone. 

She sat up in the bed, a sheet wrapped loosely around her naked form. "My brother was always infamous for his wake-up calls. You've been with him at Christmas," she quipped, smiling at Harry widely. 

His lips lifted into a half-smile as he came back to her side, leaning into kiss her. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him on top of her as she kissed him back. Her mind was perfectly clear; the sun was shining, she had Harry in her arms... 

A wince traveled through her as he settled on top of her, weight on her legs. Oh, she was sore, though. She hadn't expected it to hurt quite as much as it did, but from what she had heard and read, it would pass soon enough. 

How wonderful it was to know that she wouldn't have to worry about hurting Harry anymore! She could finally be with him like she wanted to be, without fear. Now she could share his experiences, not shy away from knowing of them. It felt very fulfilling, knowing that nothing could touch their bond now, not even Tom. 

A smile crossed her face. She enjoyed being able to think that. 

"How are you?" he asked softly, lips brushing against hers. 

A gentle blush rose to her face under his eyes, especially as his hands traveled down her curves through the thin sheet. It was different to see him—_feel_ him—in the bright daylight, and she didn't know if she wanted him to see _her_ without the reassuring cover of darkness. The only time she had been completely bared to him was in the night; there were flaws on her body that could make him flinch. And besides, she wasn't beautiful; she knew she wasn't. 

Shifting under him, she subtly clasped the sheet closer to her skin. "Good. Really good," she said sincerely, meeting his darkening eyes. "How about you?" 

A rakish grin made a sudden appearance on his mouth, a grin she hadn't seen since... 

Well, it had been a long time. 

"I don't think I've ever felt better. You're..." He trailed off, face darkening slightly. "You're wonderful," he finished quietly, looking down at her with a gaze that made her both shiver and flash hot with need. 

Smiling gently, she reached up and kissed him briefly. "Thank you," she murmured, not exactly sure how to respond to something like that. She had never been called wonderful before; she wanted to hear him say it again and again, just as she wanted to hear him say "I love you" in her ear over and over. 

Sunshine flashed in his gaze, bright and hot inside the green of his eyes. "I think your brother is about to kill me. We slept in, I guess," he said ruefully, not sounding too sorry. 

"I can still use the cloak, can't I? Ron isn't so talented that he can see invisible people," she said lightly. 

Harry looked down at her silently, a pensive look crossing his face. She felt her skin grow warm under his gaze, wondering why he looked at her so. "Are you all right, Harry?" she asked after a moment. 

Startled, he shook his head as if to clear it and then smiled down at her. "Yes, I'm fine. I was just thinking," he said vaguely, moving off of her and standing up. He tightened the loose sheet around his waist. 

Licking her dry lips, she sat up, watching him as he went to his dresser, opening a drawer. "Anything in particular you were thinking about?" 

He shook his head, grabbing some clothes and shutting the drawer. "No, not really." He smiled, but it seemed weak. "I'll be right back out," he said before heading into the loo and shutting the door. 

Perplexed, she stared at the closed door. He made such sudden shifts in energy; it was almost impossible to follow. Just a few moments ago he had seemed deliriously happy, and now he seemed subdued. Hoping against hope, she prayed that he wasn't thinking about Remus, not now. She wanted to have at least these few moments of peace and safety before going out into the world and having to face all the terror awaiting them. 

Sighing, she slipped out of the bed, gathering the clothes strewn about from the night before. Checking the time on Harry's watch, which was resting on the night table, she saw that breakfast was about an hour away from being over. After dressing quickly, she waited on the edge of the bed for Harry to come out and give her the Invisibility Cloak. As nice as Harry smelled on her skin, she desperately needed a shower. 

After a few minutes of being alone with her distracting thoughts, she was relieved when Harry came out, freshly showered and robed. He smiled slightly at her and went to his dresser once again, opening a different drawer. 

"Here's the cloak," he said, closing the drawer and walking over to her. "Bring it back by tonight, will you?" 

She nodded and let him drape it over her shoulders. Now only her neck and head were visible, which made her feel odd but didn't seem to bother Harry. Hesitating, he bent down and kissed her cheek. "You look beautiful," he whispered. 

Eyebrows up in shock, she looked at him in disbelief. He had to be joking; her hair was bedraggled, face pale. Not exactly the way she had wanted to wake up looking, but she hadn't had much choice. 

He seemed to guess her look and cupped her cheek in one hand. 

"I'm being serious, Ginny. You... You always look beautiful to me," he said firmly yet bashfully, tracing the curves of her face with his other hand. 

A soft smile crossed her lips, and she stood. "When will you go to Dumbledore?" she asked. 

"After dinner, I think." 

"Good. Tell me how it goes," she said, starting to slip the cloak over her head. 

His hand on her wrist stopped her. "Ginny, if you hear him in your mind, you'll tell me, won't you?" 

A cold feeling settled in her stomach, but she smiled bravely and nodded. "Of course I will. I'll see you in the Great Hall." She pulled away from his wrist and slipped the cloak over her head. 

With a quiet word, Harry repealed the spells on the door and opened it. When she saw Ron as red as a tomato, she had to struggle to get past him without giggling. She headed down the stairs with the sounds of Ron's frustrated voice behind her.   
  


  
  


It was very strange to sit down at the Gryffindor table with Ron after the previous night. Harry had the most terrifying thoughts of his best friend knowing about the happenings between him and Ginny and slitting his throat in rage. He knew Ron had it in him; the thought almost made him throw up his breakfast. 

Then Ginny had entered the hall, looking clean and bright in the September sunlight, and took her seat next to him, and he forgot all about Ron and his murderous thoughts. All he knew was that Ginny was next to him, her knee brushing his, hand resting lightly on his leg underneath the table, and she was_ his_, really and truly his. He had irreversibly claimed her last night, had even told her so. Or had he been talking to Tom? He himself didn't know. He had said "Mine," in the night, and that was all that mattered. 

In that moment, he knew that if they survived this war, he would marry her, no matter what. 

As he attempted to eat, a sort-of melancholy filled him even with his happiness. When he had looked at her in his bed this morning, he had had a sudden vision of his parents doing the same as him and Ginny, and it had subdued him. He had to wonder if they and Sirius had ever found Remus in the afterlife. It was a depressing, horrible idea to think that after everything, the true Marauders were still separated. 

A longing to see Remus overwhelmed him, and he had to screw his eyes shut to stop the memories from returning. 

He went to the headmaster that night, and while he didn't tell the older man of his and Ginny's night together, he had a sneaking suspicion that he didn't have to tell him. The way his eyes twinkled at Harry made him squirm and he realized that Dumbledore probably had a good idea of why Harry and Ginny had been so late to breakfast. 

"I'm pleased that you both have agreed to do this. Have you settled on a night?" Dumbledore asked. 

Harry shrugged. "As soon as possible; we didn't really have a preference," he replied, oddly comfortable with the headmaster. 

His attitude had certainly changed since a month ago, when he had first heard of the spell in this office. 

Dumbledore glanced at a calendar on the wall. "It is Wednesday now. We need time to work on the spell, so how does next weekend sound to you? It should give us enough time, but be soon enough." 

"Sounds fine to me, sir." Harry nodded. 

Clasping his hands together, Dumbledore gazed at Harry with clear eyes. "Now, on to the actual spell..." 

Expio animam amoris mei; id defendo contra venenum.

Those eight words were the key to Ginny's salvation, something he had been fighting to find for months. It seemed so simple, really; a swish of his wand towards her heart, speaking those words, and it would be over. All the pain and suffering of her life would be ended. Tom would be gone for good. 

Now all Harry was worried about was how Ron was going to take the news. So he decided to enlist Hermione for help, as usual. 

It was the second week of school, only two days before Harry and Ginny would perform the spell. Harry was waiting for Hermione to come out of her Arithmancy class, tapping his feet agitatedly as time dragged on. Damn her and her genius; she just had to be as smart as she was, didn't she? Bloody hell, why wouldn't she just come out? 

Finally, after endless waiting, the door to the classroom opened, and he straightened, nodding to those he knew as the students streamed out. Of course, he expected Hermione to be last, and, of course, he was right. She was carrying at least three textbooks, nearly hiding her face from sight; when she did see him, she let out a long sight of relief. 

"Thank goodness someone is here! Will you carry one of these for me, Harry?" she asked as he came towards her. "I'm knackered." 

"You're taking too many classes," he said as he grabbed two books from her. 

Hermione shook her head. "Don't be ridiculous; third year I was taking too many classes," she corrected him as they began a leisurely walk down the corridor. "Besides, Ginny has just as many as I do, and she got nine O.W.L.s! If she can handle it, so can I." 

A swell of pride bloomed inside Harry; even with all her troubles in her fifth year, Ginny had still worked hard enough to get nine O.W.L.s, which wasn't bad at all. It was much better than Fred and George, anyway. 

Hermione continued to chat. "So, is it my night for patrolling the halls?" she asked cheerfully. 

He hesitated as they rounded a corner. "Actually I was wondering if you would take Friday and Saturday nights, and I'll take tonight and tomorrow," he said carefully. 

She frowned and halted, facing him. "You had patrol last night, though." 

"But I need Friday night free, Hermione." He glanced at her meaningfully. "And I need your help, too." 

A slight blush rose upon her cheeks, but she did not falter in her gaze. "Is that the night you picked for the spell?" she muttered. 

When he nodded, she sighed. "Yes, I'll take Friday. Why do you need Saturday?" 

He felt his face heat. "Please, don't ask." 

A little giggle escaped her mouth, making him roll his eyes. "All right, I won't," she conceded. "But what do you need my help with, other than that?" 

"Ron." 

Face paling, she took a step back. "Oh, Harry! Don't make me tell Ron about this." 

"Someone has to, and I can't afford to be killed by a vengeful older brother right now," Harry said heatedly. He had been hoping she would be a little more cooperating than this. 

Hermione shook her head stubbornly. "You'll have to face him sometime, won't you? Better sooner than later." 

He let out a long, exasperated breath. "I have to be alive to perform the spell, don't I? And what if he comes looking for me like he did last week? He's bound to notice that Ginny and I aren't there; he's not quite that thick." 

"Oh? Isn't he?" 

"Hermione, _please_," he ground out. "Don't make me beg. I just need you to tell him and keep him from looking for us." 

She stared at him for a moment before sighing; he saw her capitulate in her gaze. "Fine. But then you have to talk to him yourself, to face his wrath and try to convince him not to maul you." 

Shaking his head, he followed her down the hall. What a strange one Hermione was. But he was awfully glad she was on his side.   
  


  
  


Going into Dumbledore's office on Friday, Ginny wasn't half as scared as she thought she would have been if faced with this prospect two weeks ago. Maybe it was Harry's hand clasped firmly in hers, or the night they had shared already, but no matter what it was, she felt determined, buoyed by Harry's strength and love. It was finally time to get rid of Tom for good, to do what no Basilisk fang could accomplish. Hopefully she would now be saved from whatever plans Tom had had for her. 

It was a relief to be rid of Tom; he had been clawing at her defenses viciously for the past week, causing headaches so severe she would attempt to knock herself out to get rid of the pain. It was almost like he was trying to dig in and secure his place in her mind. The thought frightened her; if Tom knew what she and Harry were going to do, he might be able to find a way to foil them. She had tried to keep that fear at bay, but it was harder with every push from Tom's side.

It didn't do her any good to worry about that; Harry had faith in this, as did Dumbledore and Remus. She had to have faith in them. 

The only thing that kept her going was Harry and his constant support; if she hadn't had him, she was sure she would've ripped her head off long before tonight. 

Dumbledore had a ready and welcoming smile for them as they entered. "Good evening Harry, Ginny; I trust you are ready?" 

Harry nodded for the both of them, setting his Invisibility Cloak on a nearby chair. Ginny smiled steadily at the headmaster, feeling safe under his gaze. 

"Good. Anytime you are ready, please begin. I am only here as a witness," Dumbledore said, sitting down behind his desk and watching them benignly. 

She faced Harry, not quite sure what to anticipate. His wand was steady in his hand, eyes locked onto hers. "Do you think this will hurt?" she asked quietly. 

"I don't think so. I'm sure you'll be fine," Harry replied just as softly, aiming his wand at her heart, right above her scar. 

Closing her eyes, she felt the tip of his wand rest on her heart. 

"_Expio animam amoris mei; id defendo contra venenum_." 

It was like a great fire swept through her body, burning but not hurting. The sensation spilled throughout her like an antidote to poison, seeking out any source of darkness within her and driving it out. She gasped with the power of it, feeling herself burn little by little as the fire faded as quickly as it began. Swaying on her feet, she felt someone grab her elbow to keep her steady. Her mind whirled around her; she thought she heard Tom faintly screaming in the back of her mind, thought she felt him searching for a safe place to hide as the power of Harry's magic spread through her like liquid, drawing her into safety. 

Just as abruptly, it was over. She opened her eyes with a jolt and found herself sitting in a chair; Harry and Dumbledore were standing over her, looking worried and anticipating at the same time. Taking a few deep breaths, she smiled weakly up at them, all the while thinking, _That's it? I thought it would make more of a difference._

"How are you feeling, Ginny?" Dumbledore asked quietly. 

She searched herself; her mind was empty, remarkably free from pain. Tom was gone from there, she knew. But her body, her soul...

It didn't feel any different. _She_ didn't feel different. 

Fear swept over her as she met Harry's bright gaze. "I... I don't feel changed. It feels the same as it did an hour ago," she murmured quietly, looking down at the floor.

"It will be better after the physical possession," Harry said firmly.

"You should hurry. This is not usual, Harry," Dumbledore urged. 

Ginny felt Harry's hand on her elbow, and she stood, nerves thrumming unsteadily. With a hasty good-bye, she and Harry left Dumbledore, a feeling of uncertainty between the three of them. 

Silence blanketed the air as she and Harry walked the corridors to the tower. Ginny groped for his hand and held it tightly as they walked, an uncomfortable sense of uneasiness filling her. From what she had heard, she was supposed to feel cleansed, protected, even without the physical possession. What was wrong?

Harry threw the cloak around them as they neared the Fat Lady; Hermione was standing by the portrait, ready with the password. "_Sine Que Non_," she said loudly before muttering, "I'll take care of Ron. Have a nice night." 

Ginny wrapped her arms around Harry's waist as they weaved their way through the common room, glancing back to see Hermione pulling Ron from the hearth to a quiet corner. Her heart beat painfully in her chest, and she stopped Harry on the steps to the boys' dormitory. "What if it doesn't work? What will we do?" she whispered.

He looked down at her. There was something she couldn't place in his gaze, something unfamiliar to her. "It will work. Remus and Hermione said it would, and I believe them. Don't you?" 

"Of course," she said quickly, not completely sure if she really meant it. She just couldn't say she didn't believe Remus; Harry would never forgive her. 

Quickly, she prayed to whatever luck Harry and she had guarding them for something good. The last thing Harry needed was the thought of Remus failing him.  


  
  


"Harry is doing WHAT to my sister?" 

Hermione began to panic as the tips of Ron's ears began to turn red, a sure sign of either rage or embarrassment. 

She didn't have to be a genius to figure out which he was feeling right now. 

Laying her hands on his arms, she silently thanked her foresight to bring Ron to her Head Girl room instead of keeping him in the common room; it was hard enough in private. "It's just a part of the spell; Harry wouldn't do it if Ginny hadn't said yes," she said calmly. 

Ron seemed to get even redder, if it were possible. "My sister said YES?" he exclaimed. 

Wincing, she nodded. He tried to get out of her grip, but she held on tight. "Don't be stupid, Ron! At any rate, you're too late to protect her virtue anyway!" she said unthinkingly. 

As his eyes popped out of their sockets, she grimaced. "Oh no." 

"They've already bloody done it? He and MY sister have already done it? Why the hell doesn't anyone tell me these things, eh?" he yelled. 

Hermione was now getting slightly frustrated. She pulled out her wand, cast a Locking Charm and a Silencing Charm, and looked up bravely into the eyes of her monstrously tall boyfriend. "Ron Weasley, shut up!" she exclaimed, breathing heavily. 

His shock at her outburst was great enough to keep him from bolting. Sitting him down on the bed, she stood in front of him, hoping to gain any sort of leverage by his sitting. "Listen to me; do you want Ginny and Harry to be unhappy, hmmm? Do you want Voldemort to use your sister to get to Harry, or me, or you?" 

She grabbed his face between her hands. "This was the only way to help her. And they love each other! You know they do! And Harry didn't force her to do anything she didn't want to do. You know he wouldn't do that." 

Ron blinked, the redness leaving his features. "But she's my little sister, Hermione," he said simply. 

His tone shook her to the core, and she wrapped her arms around him. "I know, Ron. But she's not little anymore," she replied quietly. 

He pulled her into his lap and embraced her, burying his face in her hair. She sighed softly, resting her face on his shoulder. _Look what war did to people, and see how they still survive_, she thought. _See how the bonds of family and friendship were more important than anything in the world. _

Suddenly, he chuckled into her hair. "I'll have to threaten to kill him, just for fun." 

She smiled slightly. "He's anticipating it from you." 

With a kiss on her neck, he pulled back from her, hands resting on her neck. "And you found the spell?" He laughed. "You must have had a time of it telling him. Poor Harry." 

"What about poor me? He's a bit thick, you know; I practically had to spell it out for him," she commented, shifting to find a more comfortable position in his lap. 

Ron grinned, hands sliding around and down her back, sending a shiver down her spine. "Poor you, then," he said quietly. "How long will this take, d'you think?" 

A fierce blush flamed her cheeks, and she buried her face in his chest. "Ron! How am I supposed to know?" she hissed. 

"I just wanted to know if _we_ would be needed." 

She lifted her face, jaw agape, and met his strikingly clear gaze. Smiling slightly, he tightened his grip on her. "You've already done patrol for the night, haven't you?" 

Dumbstruck, she nodded. He leaned in to press a kiss to her forehead. "I miss you, Hermione," he whispered. "You drive me crazy, but I miss having you." 

Her logic was beginning to melt away into something much more colorful; she wondered idly if the charms on the door would hold throughout the night. 

"Can I stay?" he asked, voice nothing more than a low growl. 

Faintly, she nodded, looping her arms around his neck and kissing him soundly. 

The calm continued through the night, everyone feeling safe in the warmth of their rooms.   
  


  
  


Anger was not a stranger to Tom Marvolo Riddle, now known as Lord Voldemort. But this was an anger that filled him beyond anything, even beyond his hatred for Albus Dumbledore. This was complete loathing and disgust for two people, so cursed in his mind that he was nearly blinded by the feelings rising in him. 

So she had tried to escape him. Little Virginia Weasley had attempted to outwit him with the help of Harry Potter. 

Did she think he was stupid? Of course he knew about the spell. He had known since last week, as long as she had, and had been preparing. He hadn't known what kind of effect the spell would have, but he had cleared a path in preparation, entrenching himself inside her soul as best as he could. 

Then he had tried to enter her mind, to see how far he could go. Potter had done his work and done it well. It was like hitting a brick wall. 

Lord Voldemort was not used to hitting walls. 

"What is the matter, my Lord?" 

Lucius was with him, coolly loyal; he liked Lucius, in spite of all the mistakes he'd made in the past. 

"She's found a way to block her mind from me. Virginia has blocked me." His fists clenched, making his knuckles almost blue against the pallor of his skin. 

"But is her soul still open, Master?" Lucius asked, eyes lowered in deference. 

Voldemort closed his eyes, reaching out with dark tendrils to feel the pure ecstasy of her soul flowing around him. Rapture of the darkest kind filled him, shunting the hatred to one side. He opened his eyes and smiled. His plan had worked; he had been able to keep her soul open for his own devices. They would all pay for his trouble.

"I may not be able to control her anymore or feel her thoughts, but I will _hurt _her, Lucius. I will poison her with pain, make her bleed, kill her ever so slowly. And then we shall see if the mighty Harry Potter can stop me."   


A/N-II: Many thanks to Anne, my wonderful beta! .

The rough Latin translation is: Purify my love's soul; protect it from poison. 


	7. Tempest Rising

_Author's Note: I'd just like to remind everyone that I revised Chapter Six to agree with the future events in this fic. If you haven't taken a peek, I suggest you do, just to be better informed. _

Chapter Seven: Tempest Rising

For Ginny, the remainder of September passed swiftly and quietly. There was little news outside of Hogwarts concerning Voldemort or any attacks he might have staged. Her sixth-year studies began well, easier than the fast pace of the year before. She and Harry spent as much time together as possible, but limited their nighttime activities as to not garner any unwanted attention. And her mind was silent; she felt nothing but herself inside, and reckoned Tom was gone for good. The physical possession had done its job.

October began with a foreboding chill, making her shiver as she slipped out of bed on the first of the month. It was a Sunday, but she woke earlier than usual, feeling a strange ache in her head. Reaching for her dressing-gown, she wrapped it around her tightly as she headed for the loo, rubbing her temples to try to relieve the pain.

She glanced in the mirror as she tried to find her mother's special headache remedy in her bag, and stopped short. The sight of her face looking healthy and normal was still amazing to her eyes. She couldn't remember a time when she had looked this healthy; the sleep she was getting was rejuvenating her whole body, helping it heal. It was wonderful to feel closer to normal, after years of sleepless nights. A smile crossed her face, and she went back to searching.

After she had dressed, Ginny headed down to the common room, careful not to wake her roommates as she left her dormitory. To her surprise, Harry, Ron and Hermione were already awake and sitting by the hearth, bundled up in Weasley sweaters to protect themselves from the chilly air. All three looked quite serious as she came upon them, but when Harry noticed her presence, he smiled.

"Morning, Ginny," he said as she came over to his favorite chair by the fire, moving over to make a space for her next to him.

She smiled at all of them, sitting and warming herself. "Hi. What's going on?"

Ron smiled wanly. "Some Order members are coming for a visit today, and we're just wondering what about," he said vaguely.

Holding up _The Daily_ _Prophet_ so Ginny could see, Hermione gestured at the front page. "We think it might have to do with an attack on a town that happened yesterday. The Prophet says Death Eaters attacked half-blood and Muggle families," she said.

Ginny peered at the page as Harry slipped his hand into hers, twining their fingers together. The pictures looked like they had come from a war zone, with bodies and debris scattered around the ground. "Any Order members get hurt?" she asked finally.

"It didn't say," Hermione replied quietly. "But we don't think so."

"It's going to be dangerous for Muggle-borns, especially now. You-Know-Who must be on the move," Ron commented.

Harry remained silent, much to Ginny's concern, as Hermione frowned. "I'm sure he won't be able to find everyone; he can't expend his forces like that. And he can't have a whole army amassed, can he?"

Ron shook his head, looking pale. "Of course not. Not that many people actually support him; we'd hear about it."

Glancing at Harry, Ginny was surprised by the way he looked. He seemed distracted and worried, from what she could tell; the mask he used to hide his emotions didn't stop her anymore. She wanted to know what was bothering him, but if he didn't want to talk in front of Ron and Hermione, she would just have to wait.

Hermione rolled up the paper. "Let's go get some breakfast, hmm?" She stood, as did Ron, and they both looked at Harry.

Harry seemed to shake himself from his stupor, and nodded. "Yes, let's," he agreed, pulling Ginny up as he stood. The four of them headed for the portrait hole, Ginny and Hermione hanging behind the two boys.

"I believe Harry's upset because Tonks is coming," Hermione whispered in Ginny's ear as they left the common room. "He's worried about seeing her again."

Ginny felt pain in her heart as they walked down the corridor. Harry hadn't seen Tonks since the day Remus died; of course he didn't want to see her, especially if she was still upset. No matter what Ginny said to him, he still carried Remus' death as his cross, his sin to redeem. If he didn't absolve himself soon, the guilt would destroy him from the inside out.

As they headed down the steps to the Great Hall, Ginny saw a group of ragged, wan-looking people milling about. The Order members were already here; Oliver Wood was talking to Mundungus Fletcher and her brother Charlie near the door of the Great Hall, while Tonks was standing with Fred, George, and Angelina. All of them looked exhausted and unhappy.

Charlie looked up abruptly and saw them coming. A smile lit up his tired face, and he waved. "Hey!"

Ginny had to smile as she waved back; she hadn't seen Charlie since May, after her rescue from the Orkneys, and she had missed him like the devil. Why he was in Great Britain was a question she wanted answered, but she pushed it away as she went forward and was caught in a bear hug.

"Look at you, Ginny! You've grown a bit, haven't you?" Charlie grinned and released her to greet Ron with a one-armed embrace. "Hey, Ron. You look good," he said as his ruffled his youngest brother's hair.

"How are you, Charlie?" Ginny asked as Hermione and Harry came forward. "You look tired."

Charlie chuckled ruefully. "I am tired, Gin, but that's no matter. Hello you two," he said, turning to Hermione and Harry. "How have you been?"

"Fine, Charlie. It's good to see you," Harry said quietly as Hermione gave him a quick kiss on the cheek in greeting.

"Ah! Found them, Fred!" George exclaimed, coming over to the little group. He clapped Ron on the back and gave Ginny a quick squeeze. "We've been waiting for you lot to come down, you slackers," he teased, amusement coming back into his tired eyes.

Following his twin, Fred nudged Harry in greeting. "How've you been, Harry? Ready to bust out of Hogwarts and join us, eh?"

"Fred!" Hermione hissed, looking about ready to smack the man. Ron shook his head and held onto her arm, keeping her back.

Cracking a grin, Harry let out a little laugh. "Almost, Fred; almost," he said in a tone that made Ginny think twice at his words. She watched him from the corner of her eye as he listened to the twins chat, seeing a latently feral look come into his gaze. It was a look she had seen more than once in his eyes, the look of a man who felt helpless and ineffective in the face of his greatest enemy.

There was a hand at her elbow, and she turned around to look into the hollow blue eyes of Tonks. The pain from Remus filled her anew even as she tried to smile in greeting, noting the pallor of her friend's skin. "It's good to see you, Tonks," she said softly.

Tonks smiled, but Ginny could tell it was forced. "Ginny, I'd like to talk. Can we step aside, hmm?" she asked, nodding towards a quiet corner.

Nodding, Ginny walked with Tonks. "Of course; it's been a while," she said. Her heart beat painfully as she thought of Remus; what would he say now?

Once they were away from the rest of the group, Tonks let out a long sigh. "I'm very tired," she murmured before turning to Ginny. "How have you been?"

Hesitating, Ginny shrugged. "All right, I suppose. It's been hard, without—"

She stopped short of saying his name, unsure of how comfortable Tonks was with him. The older woman smiled slightly, a smile of pain and regret. "You can say his name. I'm fine with his name," she said quietly.

"It's hard without Remus," Ginny said slowly, testing the name on her mouth for the first time in weeks. She was the one afraid of saying it, afraid of this conversation. It had been weeks since she'd said his name. "Harry's having a difficult time."

Tonks sighed again, eyes drifting towards Harry, who was now talking with Oliver Wood. "I thought he might. Remus said he would; he told me, right before he died, to watch for him, to make sure he didn't do anything rash," she commented, voice breaking.

Ginny could only watch in agony as tears formed in the corner of Tonks' eyes. Her heart swelled with pain and sympathy; there was nothing she wanted more than to be able to help both Tonks and Harry, to try and assist them in their grief. Harry never spoke of it; it was festering inside him, waiting for the opportune moment to break free and destroy him. She could only hope that moment never came.

Wiping her eyes quickly, Tonks took a deep breath. "I can't bear it sometimes," she confessed softly. "I think of Harry, who's lost the closest thing he's ever had to a father, and I just wonder why he had to die. Why he had to leave Harry, just when he needed him most. Why he had to leave me."

A quiet sob choked out of her throat, and she put her face in her hands. "I know Harry doesn't want to see me; I reckoned he wouldn't, not this soon."

She lifted her eyes to Ginny's stricken gaze. "But can you tell him that I want to help? I want him to know I'm here, even though Remus isn't. He needs to know that people care about him, Ginny."

Heart breaking into infinite pieces, Ginny reached over and squeezed Tonks' elbow in an attempt to comfort. "Of course I will," she said quietly. "He knows you care."

A faint smile broke upon Tonks' face, and she hugged Ginny briefly. "Thank you. I... I need him to know, for Remus' sake. Remus is watching, and he needs to know I won't let him down," she murmured, pulling back to meet Ginny's eyes.

Ginny returned the smile. "He knows," she replied, feeling the odd ache pierce her forehead once more.

Tonks looked her over for a moment, squeezing her arm. "You look healthy, Ginny. I'm glad to see it."

Nodding, Ginny let Tonks lead her back to the group, brow furrowed. The pain was bothering her, making her wonder why her mother's remedy hadn't worked.

Then she met Harry's eyes, and all thoughts of pain disappeared from her mind. His gaze was full of the rage she knew he was struggling to suppress, struggling to get past. But she knew he was only looking for an opportunity to break free and wreck havoc upon Voldemort, get rid of him for good. The idea of a showdown frightened her, and she could only pray Harry would save himself before he was destroyed from the inside out.

It was not a peaceful couple of weeks for Harry, as Ginny had surmised. Instead of feeling the happiness of having Ginny completely free of Voldemort, he was secretly raging, feeling a tempest of anger deep within. He had heard it said that a person didn't really begin to mourn the loss of a loved one until after the funeral. It seemed to hold true; the grief and guilt over Remus' death hit him like a rock in the days after he and Ginny had performed the spell. The little moments of pain he had allowed himself before were nothing compared to the complete desperation and loss he felt now.

Coupled with Remus' death finally hitting him, Harry was stretched with the work his professors loaded upon him and his fellow students. Professor Dumbledore, though a thorough and good teacher, was a stickler for essays; he seemed to even enjoy assigning them. Professor McGonagall was as difficult as ever, and even Hagrid was getting into the spirit. For the first time, he began to assign research papers, which frustrated everyone except for possibly Hermione, who was positively thrilled with the beginning of the year. Snape was as cynical and bitter as ever, but not even Harry's loathing for the Potions professor could overthrow his thoughts of Remus.

Harry found himself not caring about school as October progressed, only immersing himself into curse books, searching for a way to bring down Voldemort. Hermione had a fit when he turned in an essay on Animagi a day late to McGonagall, and saw fit to berate him that evening, saying he was throwing his future away. It was only through the combined efforts of Ginny and Ron that she finally backed down.

Hermione just didn't understand what he was doing; who knew if he had a future to throw away? Before even thinking about life after Voldemort, he had to defeat him in any way he could, and that meant searching high and low for the curse to do away with him. Ron seemed to understand what he was doing; sometimes, when he could get away from Hermione, he helped Harry look in the many books he had taken from the library. Sometimes there would be a promising one, but it would turn out to be nothing.

Harry was beginning to get frustrated as the second week of October ended. The Prophet was reporting scores of attacks now; Voldemort was pushing his forces to something, something Harry had been anticipating since the debacle at the Department of Mysteries. He was finally going to launch a full-scale attack and try to take complete control. The only question was, where would this attack take place?

Ginny was always supportive of him in a quiet way. She would never stop him from looking, but it was almost as she couldn't bring herself to help him look. He didn't understand why she was so bothered by the search; she should want him dead as much as he, right?

He said as much to her one Saturday night, a few weeks before Halloween, when she was in his room, resting in his bed and listening to him talk about his possibilities. When she didn't answer one of his questions about helping him, he had finally had enough.

"Why are you bothered by this search, Ginny?" he asked, resting on one elbow as she lay on her stomach next to him. "It seems like you don't want me to find anything."

Turning her head to him, she gazed at him with dark, worried eyes. "Of course I want you to find something. I want him gone as much as you. But..."

She fell silent, looking pale in the dim candlelight coming from his bedside table. Reaching over, he picked up his glasses from the table and slipped them on, looking carefully at her. "But what?"

"I think you're doing it for the wrong reasons," she replied softly, turning her eyes from his. She gazed down at the maroon sheets, smoothing out wrinkles as she spoke. "I know you hate him, and I know how much; but shouldn't defeating him be about helping everyone who has suffered, not just about satisfying your own hate?"

He was shocked by her words, but a large part of him agreed with everything she said. He was doing this from the rage and the hate burning inside of him; but what did that matter, as long as Voldemort was defeated? 

"Is there a right or wrong reason? I thought I just had to kill him," he said coolly.

Abruptly, she looked up, eyes flashing at him. "You're welcome to do it however you want, Harry!" she exclaimed, sitting up and sliding out of bed, sheets wrapped around her. "I'm just worried about you, but I'll stop being concerned, shall I?"

Bewildered, he got up out of bed and went over to her. "Why are you worried, though? I know what I'm doing," he said as she began to gather her clothes.

"I'm worried because you're going to destroy yourself, not just Voldemort!" she retorted, gaze burning. "All the hate you carry around inside of you is going to kill you as well. Don't you remember what Remus said?"

"Well, Remus is dead now. If I couldn't save him by caring about him, I'll save everyone else by hating. It seems to work better," he replied icily.

He thought he was dreaming, but a glimmer of tears grew at the corner of Ginny's eyes, upsetting him even more. Ginny never cried; he did not want to be the reason she did now. Gazing at her, he realized with a start how pale and thin she looked, quite the reversal from only a week ago. It frightened him somewhere in his heart, and he wanted to relieve that feeling.

She wiped her eyes quickly, obviously trying to hide her tears. "Don't you realize that's what Voldemort wants? He wants you to act out of hate because that's something he can fight and win against! It's the only thing he knows in his twisted mind other than revenge and power. You're doing exactly what he wants."

Shaking his head, he stepped closer to her. "I'm not like him, you know that. It's a different kind of feeling," he said quietly, trying to reassure her.

She made her way to him, clothes still bunched in her arms. "Hate is always the same when it comes down to it, Harry. You have to remember that there is some good in the world, not just pain and suffering. And the good is worth fighting for," she said sadly.

Putting his arms around her, he pulled her to him. "Don't leave; I'm sorry I made you angry, but don't leave," he pleaded into her ear, wanting her looking healthy and warm in his arms, not this paleness he had just discovered. Her words didn't dent his resolve; he knew what he was doing.

She shook her head, all the while sinking into his arms. "I'm tired; I feel very tired," she murmured, resting her head on his shoulder.

He stood with her for a moment, feeling her go limp against him as the clothes in her arms fell to their feet. With one smooth motion he lifted her off her feet and set her back into bed, covering her with the blankets and watching her. He saw the beginnings of dark circles below her eyes, the frailness of her limbs, the grey, pale skin; she looked as if she was suffering from illness, yet he knew she hadn't been to Madam Pomfrey to look at anything.

She would go tomorrow, he decided, and they would put this argument behind them.

Ginny did not go to Madam Pomfrey as planned, instead slipping away from Harry as he slept to go and study with Hermione. She said nothing to him all day, and barely kissed his cheek in parting when she retired to her dormitory that evening. Ron asked what was going on with her, but Harry couldn't answer and Hermione wouldn't say.

It made for a very gloomy start to Monday the next morning. Harry woke up late, having been up finishing an essay for Professor Dumbledore, and didn't see Ginny at all at breakfast. Nor did he see her in the corridors between classes. In fact, he hadn't seen her at all when lunch came around, which was very odd; usually he saw her at least once between classes. He stayed behind to walk her to lunch from her Defense class, but she didn't come out with her classmates, and after ten minutes of waiting, he went down to the Great Hall.

"Have you seen Ginny?" he asked as he sat down next to Hermione and Ron, who were already eating.

Ron looked up, eyes narrowed. "Weren't you going to walk her down here?"

"She didn't come out of class," Harry replied, reaching over for a plate of chicken.

Swallowing a bit of food, Hermione glanced at Harry with a great amount of concern. "Maybe she's in her dormitory; I'll go check on her," she said, grabbing her rucksack and heading out of the Great Hall.

Ron put down his fork. "She's never done this before, not since her first year," he said quietly. "I hope nothing's wrong."

Harry felt something seize up inside of him, but he controlled his urge to race after Hermione, only continuing to eat. There couldn't be anything wrong with Ginny, not after everything she had gone through. She may have looked a bit unwell last night, but that could have been a trick of the light from his candle, or a passing little cough. It was nothing serious. It couldn't be serious.

Continuing to look at Harry, Ron nudged him. "You said she was all right, now. After the spell," he commented, ears going pink at the mention of the spell.

Glancing at his friend, Harry was surprised. He and Ron had never talked about what he and Ginny had done; Hermione said that he had been fine with it. It just seemed too uncomfortable to deal with. "She is all right, Ron. We did everything right," he said.

Ron looked at him for a silent moment, then turned back to his food. "You've treated her right, Harry; thank you," he said gruffly, shoving a roll into his mouth.

Eyebrows up, Harry smiled faintly. "There's nothing to thank; she deserves everything."

There was a clatter at the doors to the Great Hall, and Hermione came racing in, running straight to Harry. Her eyes were wide, her face pale. "Harry, you've got to come! Hurry!" she exclaimed.

Panic filled him, and he lead Hermione and Ron out of the hall, rucksacks left unnoticed. He sped through the corridors, took the stairs two at a time, and nearly leapt right through the Fat Lady, who was flabbergasted at the sight. Ron had barely spoken the password when Harry ran through to the common room.

"Where is she?" he wheezed, a stitch throbbing in his ribs.

Hermione, hard for breath, pointed up the stairs to the girls' dormitory. Without another word he raced up the stairs three at a time, pushing his muscles to their limit, and finally reached the seventh-years' room.

"Ginny?" he called breathlessly as he walked in, eyes searching the room. A little figure huddled in the fetal position on one of the beds halted him in his tracks, red hair fanned across the pillow as she shook with a coughing fit. Harry couldn't breathe for a moment as he looked at her, images of death filling his mind. She couldn't be dying, she just couldn't...

The girl turned her head, and he saw her dark brown eyes water. "Harry..." she murmured, clenching her fists.

The sound of her voice broke him from his thoughts and sent him straight to her side. Wrapping his arms around her, he cradled her against him, robes opening with the movement. "Ginny, what's wrong? Have you been to Madam Pomfrey?" he asked, voice soothing and quiet.

She shook her head, shivering though she was fully dressed, and began to cough. He pulled her closer to his chest, looking up as Hermione and Ron walked in. Ron's eyes widened in shock. "What happened?" he exclaimed.

"I don't know, she won't say anything. Did she say anything to you?" Harry asked Hermione as Ginny's coughs faded into uneven breathing.

Hermione shook her head. "No; she told me yesterday that she didn't feel well, but I didn't see a huge problem," she said weakly.

"Harry, what's on your shirt?" Ron asked abruptly.

Looking down, Harry saw his spotless white uniform shirt speckled red in the front, right where Ginny had her face as she was coughing. Panic struck him, and he looked down at Ginny's face. Her lips were flecked with red; he put a finger to her mouth and tested the fluid.

He tasted the metallic tang of blood.

For a moment he was in shock, not aware of his surroundings, only aware of the girl in his arms. The girl who was coughing up blood.

Then he did the only thing he could do.

He ran.

When Ginny had woken up that morning, she hadn't expected to feel so wretched. Her head was throbbing, her eyes burned, and there was a deep pain in her chest that made her heart skip and her lungs wheeze. She was coughing so hard her throat began to get irritated. Her roommates expressed their concern, and promised to get her homework if she stayed in bed, and she took them up on their offer, hoping bed rest was she really needed. But by lunch she felt barely lucid, and almost didn't register being in Harry's arms as he sprinted through the castle, Ron and Hermione close behind.

The ache in her head had never truly gone away since it arrived; she tried everything she could think of, even asking Hermione for Muggle remedies, but nothing relieved the pain for good. It was hard to get through her days; she felt tired a lot of the time, which made it hard to stay alert in class. Professor McGonagall kept her after class one day to ask about her, but what could she say? She thought it would pass, eventually.

Now she was cold and hot at the same time, jouncing along in Harry's arms, and feeling as if nothing could be worse than this feeling. There was a metallic taste on her tongue; she knew it to be her own blood. But what had brought about this illness? She had no idea.

As soon as Harry raced into the Hospital Wing, she was the primary concern. She was too tired to speak, which frustrated the nurse to no end, since Harry, Ron, and Hermione could tell her nothing about Ginny's symptoms. When Harry set her down on the bed and said something about getting Dumbledore, she went to sleep, trying to forget the pain of her body.

When she awoke, it was to the rising fury of Harry's voice against Dumbledore's calming tones. She opened her heavy eyelids, feeling the pain in her chest increase as her breathing sped up, and glanced around the room. Hermione and Ron were sitting on either side of her, pale and strained. Harry was standing at the foot of her bed, face dark with anger, and talking with the headmaster, who was standing a few feet from her bed with a distraught Madam Pomfrey.

"Harry, please calm down. This is not helping Ginny right now," Dumbledore said patiently, eyes crinkled with worry.

"Standing here and watching isn't helping her, either! What's wrong with her?" Harry asked, eyes murderous.

All eyes turned to Madam Pomfrey, who could only shake her head helplessly. "I've never seen this before, in all my years. I checked her chest, but I didn't find anything malignant! Her lungs and her heart seem to be just fine. I don't understand where this is coming from," she said.

The line of Harry's mouth disappeared completely as his fists clenched. He turned away from the adults. Ginny could see the profile of his face, and was shocked to see his well-constructed mask begin to crumble; his rage and pain was clear in his eyes. She wanted to help him, wanted to make his pain go away, but she could barely keep her eyes open; she was too tired to speak.

"Maybe this isn't coming from Ginny's physical body," Hermione said softly, her small voice startling everyone.

"What do you mean, Hermione?" Ron asked quickly.

Hermione glanced around the room, eyes halting at Harry's turned back. "Maybe the protection spell didn't completely work," she said.

There was silence in the small group. Ginny felt a strange sort of realization swallow her; no wonder she had felt so odd as they had performed the spell. And Tom had been inside her when she found out about it; what if her attempts to block him had failed? And he had found out? Paved the way for his return...

"Impossible. She would have told me if he could still go into her mind," Harry replied shortly, back still turned.

"I'm not saying it didn't work to some extent, Harry. I'm just saying, what if Voldemort had found out about the plan, and made sure he could still reach some part of her, even if it was only a tiny part," Hermione said just as curtly. "It's possible; she had him inside her when you told her, didn't she?"

Harry's face tightened as Dumbledore spoke up. "We have to find out if he knew, which means we must wake Ginny up. Only she can tell us the truth of it," he said calmly.

Ginny struggled to lift her head, a gasp leaving her throat as she did. The whole group jumped, startled, and Ron grasped her limp hand in his. Harry's eyes met hers, and her heart broke to see his anxiety, his sense of guilt; he thought he had failed her, brought her to this state. It was more guilt to compound the rest, festering inside of him and looking to break free.

"Ginny, can you hear us?" Hermione said softly. Ron could not speak; he only squeezed her hand, squeezing tightly enough to crush it, but she didn't mind.

Slowly, she nodded, hoping that her voice would not fail her. Dumbledore came forward a few steps, a soothing smile on his face. It calmed her, however forced it might be. "Ginny, did you hear us earlier?" he asked quietly.

Again, she nodded, heart pounding painfully. Dumbledore looked down at her gravely. "Do you know if Voldemort knew of this plan before you performed the spell?" he asked quietly.

She tried to find some sort of voice, even as her mind screamed for silence. She didn't want to feel the blame for this, didn't need more pain than she had already. The sense of failure was overwhelming her; she knew that Tom had doomed her to his possession, one way or another.

"He... He could have..." she said hoarsely, the sound of her own voice startling her. "I remember... I remember him making my head hurt, as if he were digging into me."

"Oh, Ginny, why didn't you tell anyone?" Hermione asked sadly.

Ginny shook her head weakly, berating her own stupidity as she spoke. "It felt the same as every other time," she said softly.

Harry looked at the headmaster, having finally gained control of his face. "What can we do?" he asked.

Dumbledore could only shake his head. "We don't know what's wrong, Harry; I don't know how to help her."

Eyes glued to Harry, Ginny could only watch as his helplessness and anger overwhelmed him, filling his eyes and driving every other feeling from his face. She wanted to reach out to him, but before she could say a word, he was gone. He walked out of the Hospital Wing, fists clenched at his side, back completely straight.

Hermione and Ron looked at each other in surprise as Dumbledore let out a long sigh and turned back to Ginny. "Rest assured, I will do everything in my power to help you, Ginny. I will talk to anyone who might be of help, and I will assist you," he said firmly.

Ginny tried to smile in thanks, but her heart wouldn't let her. Her eyes kept drifting towards the doors of the wing, and as Ron and Hermione left her side to speak with the headmaster, she felt tears in her eyes.

Suddenly, she felt very alone.

It was happening to him again. He could barely believe it, but he reckoned he should be used to it by now. Another person he cared for was being hurt by Voldemort.

Except this time, it was the person he cared for most of all.

Harry should have known it was too good to be true for Ginny to be all right, not after all the trouble they had gone through. He hadn't been paying enough attention to her and how she felt; maybe if he had, she would be ok.

But it had started with the protection spell. He just hadn't been powerful enough to save her. Voldemort had trumped him again, defeating him and claiming another victim, a victim he had been waiting for. Harry just couldn't save her.

It was his fault she was sick.

It was his fault, just as everything else had been his fault.

His parents.

Sirius.

Remus.

Cedric.

And now Ginny.

All because of him and that bloody prophecy. They were all victims of him and his fate.

Anger filled him as he sat in the Great Hall, staring at an untouched plate of food. He couldn't eat his dinner; how was he supposed to eat when Ginny was in the Hospital Wing, possibly dying?

Dying.

If she died...

He would have nothing left. His plans for a future would be brushed aside; he could never have any sort of life without Ginny. It was completely unthinkable.

A solitary brown owl flew into the hall and landed in front of him, gazing placidly into his empty gaze. Without any curiosity, he took the letter from its leg, and it immediately flew off again, causing whispers throughout the hall.

Harry gazed at the envelope, seeing only his name on the front. Methodically, he ripped it open, not even wondering who could be sending him any post at a time like this. Unfolding the letter, his heart stopped beating as his eyes traveled the words.

_Now you know the power of the Dark Lord. __Virginia__ Weasley is going to die, and there is nothing you can do to stop it. She is completely at the Dark Lord's mercy. There is no hope left for you, Harry Potter._

Clenching his fist, Harry stood from the table, jaw tightened. The letter crumpled in his hand as he walked out of the Great Hall, heading straight for the library. Hate and anger filled him, creating a storm inside him, waiting to break free.

Voldemort had to pay for this, even if it took his own life. Ginny wouldn't die, not if he had anything to say about it.

A/N: Thanks to my beta Anne! She's grand. We're down to the last couple of chapters, folks! Be on the lookout.


	8. Into Darkness

_Author's Note: I am fully aware of the revelation that Ginny's full name is Ginevra, not Virginia. As I began this set of stories back in July of 2003, and seeing as it is coming to a close, I am not going to go back and change her name. I'm sure all my readers will be able to get past this minor detail, right? _

Chapter Eight: Into Darkness

A shadow hovered over Harry and his friends as the first days of Ginny's illness went by. Harry kept himself occupied by scavenging the library in search of anything to aid him, even gaining access to the Restricted Section by way of the headmaster. Ron went about in a sort-of trance, unable to bring himself to pay attention in class or even make decent conversation. All his mind seemed focused on his ailing sister, leaving Hermione to hold things together within their little group. She took copious notes in class and let the two boys copy them, tried to help Harry by taking the first four nights of patrol, and even wrote a gentle letter to the Weasleys, informing them of Ginny's illness. She did not tell them the assumed cause; that was for the headmaster or Ginny herself to do.

All this activity made Hermione very tired, and by Friday she was exhausted. She was also aggravated at Harry; though she sympathized with him to a certain extent, he hadn't been to classes in three days, which was completely unacceptable. The professors were asking for him, grilling her on his whereabouts; Snape seemed especially vocal in his disapproval of Harry's actions. Even Ron, who finally began to climb out of his slump slowly and surely, questioned Harry's actions.

At breakfast on Friday morning, Hermione watched as Harry ate a few slices of toast faster than she had ever seen him, and got up from the Gryffindor table as soon as he had sat down. She exchanged a glance with Ron as he walked out of the Great Hall, and put down her fork. This reckless behavior had to be stopped. No matter what Harry said, he did have a future to think about, and Ginny was going to be there with him.

"Go after him, will you?" Ron pleaded quietly. "This has to stop, for Ginny's sake. He hasn't even been up to see her since we took her to Pomfrey on Monday." He took her rucksack from her hands. "I'll get your stuff to Defense and tell Dumbledore where you are, if you're late," he added.

Smiling slightly, she leaned over and kissed his cheek, a blush filling her face. "I'll talk to him," she promised, squeezing his hand as she got up and followed in Harry's footsteps.

It was no surprise to see him duck into the library under Madam Pince's nose; she was busy berating a sheepish-looking couple who she had just discovered doing heavens-knows-what behind a bookshelf. Hermione followed him deeper into the library. He didn't seem to notice her at all, if he knew she was following him; he just grabbed a few tomes from a shelf and settling down in an inconspicuous seat near the shadowed Restricted Section. She stopped in front of him, waiting for him to say something to her, but he just continued to read, face dark with something she couldn't read.

Finally, she spoke to him. "We have Defense in ten minutes," she said coolly, sitting down across from him.

He didn't look up. "That doesn't matter anymore."

Indignation rose within her, not only at the slight aimed at education, but through the implication that he didn't need to know it because he wouldn't need to. She could read his mindset like an open book; he thought he was going to die. Reaching out across the table, she shut the book with a loud crack, startling him and causing him to meet her eyes.

Her heart ached at the hollowness within his green eyes, wishing that she could help him with a fervor she had never felt before. She couldn't read him as well as Ginny could, but she knew what she saw inside him; the pain, the guilt, the hate, the anger. These were the feelings she had known him to have ever since their first meeting.

She tried to force warmth into her tone, wanting to reassure him. "It does matter; if you don't come to class, what kind of future do you expect to have?" she asked quietly, keeping his gaze.

It was he who looked away first, eyes rising to the ceiling. "What's the point, Hermione?" he hissed. "I'll be lucky if I can defeat Voldemort; I can't even think about having any sort of future."

Pursing her lips, she debated whether to bring up Ginny, knowing the girl would have serious issues with the words running from his mouth. And she decided if Ginny could say it, so could she. She was the closest thing he had to a sister, and what kind of family would she be if she let him destroy himself like this?

"Ginny would knock sense into you if she heard you say that," she said.

Stiffening visibly, his dark eyes met hers, and she was again astounded at how empty he could be and still look viciously angry. "She won't ever hear me say it, so drop it," he said shortly.

Frowning, she leaned forward. "What do you mean? Are you not going to see her anymore or something?"

At his silence, she felt ice run through her veins. "Harry, you can't do that to her!" she exclaimed. "She's sick and she needs you!"

"Look what I've done to her! I'm killing her, just like I killed Remus and Sirius!" he retorted, rising and walking away from her.

Staring after him, she could only watch him in shock. He thought this was _his_ fault?

Of course he did, she realized, getting up after him. This was Harry; he always took the blame for every bad thing that happened. It was this horrible cycle that was at fault for Harry's current state. It was something inside of him, something no one could fix but himself; Remus had tried to help him, but Ginny had been the only one who had ever come close, and now she was falling just as Remus had. It only strengthened the nameless trigger inside of Harry, letting him wallow in a mix of guilt and hatred.

Hermione kept on his heels as he wandered through the bookshelves. "Don't be absurd, Harry! You haven't killed anyone; if anything, you save people," she said hotly.

A laugh escaped his throat, a low, brooding sound. "You're the one who told me that I had a "saving-people" thing, remember? The hero inside of me. I'm not a hero, Hermione; people have died because of me," he said bitterly.

"That's a lie! If anyone has died, it's because it was their time; nothing you could have done would have stopped it," she shot back.

He turned to her abruptly, looking at her with a sudden violence. "Then is it Ginny's time to die? Does she deserve death?" he said roughly, eyes flashing.

Stomach twisting into knots, she could only stare at him, wondering what to so or to say. She was at a loss for words, not understanding his logic and trying to fight his words without driving him away.

After a moment of eye contact, he turned away. "I'm not coming to class, Hermione."

"Then what are you doing?" she asked suddenly, her resolve returning in a moment. "What can you be doing that is more important than your future?"

"I'm going to kill him."

The blood in her veins froze as she looked at his profile, mouth agape. She knew Voldemort was edging ever closer to Hogsmeade and the school, but she hadn't thought Harry would...

Harry was going to go look for him.

She grabbed his elbow tightly. "You can't do this by yourself, Harry; don't do anything stupid," she said fervently.

He let out a low chuckle, ironic and bitter in tone, and tried to shake her off. "It's a little late for that warning, don't you think?"

"You can't leave," she said, words spilling from her throat in desperation. "Ginny will die; you're the only one she wants to see, and if you go, she will give up! Chasing Voldemort won't save her; you should look for another spell, something---"

"No more spells!" he exclaimed harshly, ripping away from her. "They've caused nothing good! It's time for action, not defense. I'll kill him with my bare hands if I have to!"

Staring at him in horror, she could only shake her head dumbly, fingers digging into his arm. Who was this man in front of her, so bitter and full of hatred? Had this been Harry all along, or was it Ginny's sudden fall that had broken his last constraint? "Please listen to me! Anger isn't going to defeat Voldemort, because he has enough of that to spare! You need your heart, not your hate," she said pleadingly.

He only tore himself from her again, face dark and hard. "Ginny said that once, and look what happened to her."

Insides clenching painfully, she let her hand drop limply to her side. "Ron and I want to help you, Harry; please don't do this," she whispered.

"No one can help me," he replied stonily.

With those words, he turned and walked away, back straight. Hermione watched him disappear behind a few bookshelves, tears forming in her eyes. She had failed him and Ron and everyone.

The darkness was creeping closer.

* * *

Even on the brightest days, Harry felt cold, shadowed. He couldn't feel any hope; he didn't understand how Ron and Hermione could try and stay positive. Ginny was dying, and it was his fault. There was only one thing to do.

Kill Voldemort.

He didn't want to see her, didn't want to look into her eyes and know that she might not wake the next time she closed them. Yet here he was, walking up to the Hospital Wing to see her. Hermione's words about her had struck him unwillingly; how could Ginny want to see him, the man who had caused her illness?

He prayed no one was visiting her as he stepped into the sterile wing; he knew that her parents had been coming often, ever since Hermione had written them a week ago. The room was chilly, a slight version of the cold air outside. It was only a week and a half until Halloween, but it felt like December outside.

Madam Pomfrey nor anyone else were to be found. Taking a deep breath, he hardened his heart, and went past the curtain to Ginny's bed.

She was sleeping as he approached her, dull hair fanning out on the white pillow. Her textbooks sat on her bedside table, dusty with days' worth of idleness. Surrounding her were flowers and cards from her family and friends; he saw a peculiar bouquet of what looked to be magnolias that changed color every few minutes right next to her textbooks, and could only assume they were from Tonks. Two chairs rested on either side of the bed, usually filled by her parents, her brothers, or Ron and Hermione, according to what he heard.

Weak sunlight filtered in through a near window, casting light on her small form. He stood at the end of her bed, looking down at a shell of the girl she had been only two weeks ago. Her skin was paler than snow, freckles dark and striking against her face. The darkness under her closed eyes showed stress he could only imagine. She looked impossibly small underneath the layers of blankets, and somewhere deep inside his cold walls, he felt a pang of remorse.

He could barely look at her anymore; he was about to leave when her eyes fluttered open, and caught him at her bed. Brightness crept back into her gaze, and she sat up in bed with a weak smile. "Harry! How have you been?" she asked quietly.

Resisting the urge to take her in his arms, he stayed where he was. "Fine. How are you?"

She shrugged, the light in her gaze dimming. "Fine."

They looked at each other in silence. He didn't want to see her like this; he wanted to go, run away and kill. She was still beautiful, almost ethereal in the dim afternoon sunlight, no matter her illness; it made him weak when he needed his steel.

"I know you don't want to be here," she said abruptly, turning her gaze to her lap.

He was startled by her words and couldn't take his eyes away from her. Breathing deeply, she continued onward, fingers twisting nervously in her lap. "It's not your fault, no matter what you think; I put myself here. I should have told you that Tom might have known about the spell, but I didn't. It was my fault; I was being selfish."

She met his gaze, eyes bright with tears. "I just didn't want to be without you again, and I thought I had beaten him. I could have put you in more danger," she murmured, voice thick. "You don't have to come see me; just please forgive me."

Something inside him cracked, and he felt all the love he had ever felt for her rush back into him for a brief moment, mixing with the guilt and the pain. As her shoulders shook with dry sobs and her throat was silent, he went to her side and put his arms around her, burying his face in her hair.

"It's not your fault, Ginny," he said fiercely. "It's Voldemort's. He won't get away with any of this. It's time for him to pay."

She looked up at him, a stray tear running from the corner of her eye. "What do you mean?" she asked softly.

"I'm going to kill him, and I'm going to make him suffer for all he's done. He deserves it," he said fervently, pulling her closer into his arms so that she was nearly sitting on him.

"Harry, you're not going to go after him, are you?" she whispered, fear replacing the sadness in her eyes.

He didn't answer her, only squeezing her as the anger and the rage swept over his softness and hardened it. She looked up into his eyes and her face went even paler than it was. "Don't leave; you don't know what he might be doing! He could be waiting for you to do something like this!" she said quickly.

"That doesn't matter anymore; I can kill him no matter what he's prepared for," he said stonily.

Shaking her head, she shrugged out of his grip, eyes cast down at the floor. "You don't understand, Harry! He is going to feed off of all of your hate and beat you at his own game," she said hoarsely, wiping her eyes briefly.

He stood up, looking out the grey window. "I don't think you can understand how I feel, Ginny."

Somewhere inside of him, he regretted those words the instant they left his mouth. The atmosphere changed immediately; he could feel the hostility rising off of her in waves, pushing against his own.

"Of course; how could I understand how you feel? How could I understand the hurts you've suffered at Tom's hands?"

Her voice was stronger than he had heard all day and full of fire. Glancing at her, he saw her breathing hard, eyes flashing at him.

She continued to speak, catching his cursory glance and holding it. "Let me tell you, Harry Potter, that you are not the only one who hates him and has reason to! He practically raped me when I was eleven years old, stealing my innocence and staying inside my soul for years! And he's taken my family away; I've lost uncles, cousins, friends. You weren't the only one who was affected by Remus' death!"

A coughing fit attacked her, and she turned away, shoulders shaking with the effort to continue her breathing. He watched her coolly, hating every cough that escaped her throat.

After a minute, the coughs died away; yet she continued to shake, unintelligible noises coming from her. Harry realized with a start that she was crying, and it shook him deep inside. He had never seen Ginny really cry; he was afraid of what he would do if he saw her with tears coming out of her eyes because of him.

"I lost Sirius and Remus just as you did," she choked out. "Think of how we're all suffering, and stop being selfish about your guilt!"

She continued to cry, soft sobs leaving her lungs and resounding in the air. Holding his breath, he stepped away from her bed, at a loss of what to say.

Her face turned slightly; he could see a sliver of her profile, the tears slipping from her eyes. A horrible little half-smile crossed her mouth. "I'm sorry; I'm keeping you from your searching. You don't have to stay," she said bitterly, turning her back to him.

The sight of her tears rocked him; he left quickly, trying to ignore the burning in his insides. He wanted to keep his hate intact; it was the only constant in his life.

* * *

The last dredges of Ginny's hope had abandoned her with Harry's visit; not even the ring on her hand could comfort her now. It was ironic how healthy she felt at this time, when her despair was at its greatest. When she had been praying for a miracle and hoping for Harry to come to her, her illness had attacked her without mercy, rendering her useless. It had been hard to even read a page in a textbook; now, a few days until Halloween, she could stand for short periods of time and even get homework done. She would laugh at the irony, if she had kept her sense of humor.

All day and all night, she waited in horrible anticipation for Ron or Hermione to rush into the Hospital Wing and tell her that Harry was gone, off to hunt down Voldemort. The look in his eyes had frightened her; it had been pure hatred, pure vengeance. She had tried her best to convince him to listen to her, but he had nothing of it. There was nothing for her to hope for now. If Harry didn't figure out a way to overcome his blinding hate, Voldemort had already won.

The thought of Harry's death haunted her as she sat in her bed, reading her Potions textbook as the sun began to set outside her window a few days until Halloween. She didn't want him to lose like this; indeed, she didn't want to lose him at all. She knew that the Harry she loved was still inside the cold man who had come to see her, but he was getting lost. If Remus had been here, maybe things would have been better. She probably still would have gotten sick, but maybe Harry wouldn't be so obsessed with destroying Voldemort.

_Why did Remus have to leave him?_ she thought for the millionth time. _I would have given my own life if Remus could have been spared; Harry needs him more than he needs me._

"Hi, Ginny."

She looked up from her page to see Ron standing by her bed, Hermione right behind him. Both were pale and drawn; the smiles on their faces looked very forced. Fear rushed into her mind, and she put aside her book. "What's the matter?" she asked. "Is it Harry?"

Ron frowned. "No, he's still here," he said roughly. "Dumbledore's just made an announcement, is all."

"Announcement? What kind of announcement?" she asked.

Her brother and Hermione came closer, Ron taking a seat in a nearby chair and Hermione sitting at the edge of the bed. "You haven't read the _Prophet_ lately, have you?" Hermione said.

Curious, Ginny shook her head. Hermione and Ron exchanged a glance before the former continued to speak. "Well, Voldemort's stepped up attacks. Muggle-borns were his new targets, along with wizard establishments," she said quietly. "Yesterday, St. Mungo's was attacked and taken over. There's fear that the Ministry is next."

"But You-Know-Who isn't in London. He's coming here. Dumbledore's sending everyone under sixth-year to a safe-house. The Aurors and Order members are starting to arrive," Ron added somberly. "Fred, George, Bill, and Charlie should be up to visit you soon."

Hermione's lip trembled. "Dumbledore is also sending the parents of Muggle students to safe-houses. My mum and dad have already left," she said softly.

Ginny reached out to her friend, grasping her hand. Her heart felt full to bursting with all the sorrow in the room. "No wonder Harry is still here," she murmured. "The last stand will be here."

Ron licked his dry lips and coughed nervously. "There's something else, Gin," he said.

Turning wide eyes to him, Ginny looked at him questioningly. What else could there be?

"Tonks was at St. Mungo's yesterday. She hasn't reported into Headquarters yet, and they don't know where she is," he mumbled, looking away.

Shock coursed through her as Hermione gave a suspicious sniff. "How do you know?" she breathed, horror filling her.

"Charlie told us. He seemed really upset about it, too," Hermione said thickly, wiping her eyes quickly.

Ginny sat back, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. Not Tonks, too; she couldn't handle it if Tonks was dead as well. This war was too costly, too painful; for a moment, she understood Harry's desire for vengeance on behalf of those who had fallen. But she couldn't imagine living off the hate like he seemed to.

"She's fine," she said with more conviction than she felt. "I know it. She'll come here as soon as she can."

Hermione squeezed her hand. "Of course she will. Tonks is a clever girl."

Ginny squeezed back, eyes traveling to her brother. "Where are Mum and Dad?" she asked weakly.

"Charlie said they would be here tomorrow. But..." Ron trailed off, shrugging helplessly. "I don't know what to do, Gin."

She smiled slightly at him. "No one knows what to do. It's just the way the world works."

"Harry does, obviously," Hermione said, voice slightly cool.

Pinning her with her gaze, Ginny raised her eyebrows. "Why would you say that?"

Hermione swallowed. "Right after Dumbledore made his announcement, Harry grabbed him and pulled him away. We can only assume he's imparting his wisdom."

Ginny sighed. "Harry's having a hard time; he doesn't know how to handle himself," she protested without strength, feeling the same betrayal Ron and Hermione felt.

Ron laughed shortly. "Oh, and we aren't having a hard time? He hasn't spoken to us in three days, Ginny. What kind of person does that to his friends? I don't understand him."

"It's hard to understand Harry; he's just doing what he thinks is best," Ginny said softly, twisting the ring on her finger as she spoke. She prayed for some sort of revelation from anyone, to help Harry in his trials.

Hermione shook her head, eyes growing suspiciously bright. "If Remus were here, it would be different," she said.

Ginny's stomach clenched; Hermione had just echoed her earlier thoughts, and it hurt. "Remus isn't here; we have to be the ones to help Harry," she said.

"How are we supposed to help him if he won't even stay in the same room as us, hmm?" Ron exclaimed, eyes fiery with anger.

"Anyway we can," she replied gently. "Just standing by him. He'll know we're here for him."

She hoped he would, in any case.

* * *

He had found it; the trials and tribulations were over with. He had all he needed to defeat Voldemort.

As Harry sat across from the headmaster in his office as Dumbledore looked over the spell, he felt an immense sort of relief. He wouldn't disgrace his parents and Sirius and Remus; they would be redeemed, along with all the rest of Voldemort's victims. And they would be able to help him destroy him for good.

Professor Dumbledore looked up at Harry from the tome in front of him, eyes dimmed by the events of recent days. With a sigh, he rubbed his temples with thin fingers. "This is a very obscure spell, Harry; I have never heard of it until now," he said quietly.

"That doesn't mean it won't work," Harry shot back immediately. He wasn't going to let Dumbledore stop him, not after all the time he had put into this. He itched for vengeance, could almost taste the joy of finally ridding Voldemort from his life.

"I'm sure it works; but it looks very difficult," Dumbledore replied calmly, glancing back down at the open page. "It involves calling the souls of the victims from the other side to assist in the destruction of their murderer. From the book, I gather it was used often in the Dark Ages. It would take a strong wizard to perform this spell."

Harry straightened in his chair. "I can do it; I have enough power to do it," he said coolly.

Dumbledore sighed, looking at Harry with his penetrating eyes. "I know you have the power, Harry. I'm just worried about your stability at this point," he said.

Standing, Harry began to pace. "I'm fine, Professor. I'm not sure where you're getting the idea that I'm not," he said testily. He was bloody tired of people telling him he wasn't fine when he didn't need to hear it.

Dumbledore stood as well, strength radiating from him. "You are _not_ fine, and I refuse to believe it. You are acting out of your hate and anger, which is what Voldemort want you to do. Will you continue on this path and end any chance of winning your battle?" he asked powerfully, gaze holding Harry in place.

The portraits along the walls began to chatter as Harry and the headmaster stared at each other for a silent moment, tension rising. Harry frowned deeply. "I'm doing what I can to win, Professor. I'm sorry if it isn't your dream," he retorted.

"Harry, I am only trying to help you. You must act with your heart, not your hate," Dumbledore said, pushing the book towards Harry's side of the desk. "There is nothing I can do to stop you, but I ask you to think on what I've said."

Harry took the book, placing it securely under his arm. "I know what I'm going to do," he said steadily.

He turned and walked out of the room, leaving the headmaster with a look of pity and sadness in his eyes. He needed to practice this spell to get it right. Voldemort was fast-approaching, and he had to be ready.

_Author's Note: Sorry if this is a bit short, and sorry that this is so late! I had the largest writer's block in the world. The next chapter will be the last, so prepare yourselves! Please read and review. Many thanks to Anne, my wonderful beta._


	9. Saving Grace

Chapter Nine: Saving Grace

The day before Halloween, it began to rain.

It wasn't a gentle, soothing autumn rain; this was torrential, pouring down from the skies with a vengeance and power unseen before by many. And as Harry stood in the entrance hall, surrounded by nervous Aurors, he watched the rain come down from the open doors and felt quite like the weather. He felt as if he would burst forth at any moment and pour down upon all in his path without mercy.

He knew the spell by heart now; he had spent the last two days in his room memorizing it, feeling the power within its words. His room had become a refuge for him as the forces of Mad-Eye Moody and Dumbledore swarmed upon the castle, replacing the young students who had been sent away by Portkey, as the Hogwarts Express was likely to be attacked if put to use. The Weasley brothers had all come up to greet him, usually on the way to visit Ginny. Bill and Charlie had asked if he wanted to join them, but he refused; seeing Ginny again would do things to his mindset that he didn't want to happen.

He could see Arthur Weasley and Professor McGonagall coming through the door, Arthur carrying a limp form and McGonagall directing him towards the stairway to the Hospital Wing. Curious, he came closer. Mr. Weasley found his gaze, and called him over.

"Harry, help an old man, will you?"

Going to the older man, Harry saw the pale and bloodied face of the person he was carrying, and horror struck him.

It was Tonks.

"What happened?" he blurted, taking Tonks from Mr. Weasley and walking beside him as he hurried towards the stairs.

Mr. Weasley wiped his brow, worry creasing his face. "Ron didn't tell you? She was at St. Mungo's when the Death Eaters attacked. I don't know how she got here alive; I found her at the gates. I would have levitated her, but she's in such a condition that I didn't want to use magic," he explained as they rounded a corner, skirting past a few flustered Aurors.

Harry nodded, trying to adjust his grip on Tonks to avoid further injury. "I understand," he said, hoping that Tonks would be all right. He had avoided seeing her since Remus' death, but he didn't want her to die. The world hurt enough as it was.

He felt Mr. Weasley's gaze on him as they walked together. "How are you, Harry? We haven't had an opportunity to speak in a long while," he said quietly.

Stomach clenching, Harry glued his eyes to the floor. "I'm ready for this to be over," he said fiercely.

Mr. Weasley sighed softly. "As am I. I can only hope the cost is not as great as last time. We've already lost so many."

They were nearing the Hospital Wing, which was buzzing with Aurors and medi-wizards; Madam Pomfrey looked quite flustered as they walked in, but her face changed immediately as she saw the woman in Harry's arms.

"Oh good heavens! Place her on a bed, quickly!"

Harry did as she directed, acutely aware of the girl watching him from the bed next to Tonks. Someone gasped; he looked to the side to see Hermione at Ginny's bedside. His friend looked very pale, he noted, and he expected she hadn't been sleeping much.

"She's alive?" she asked, coming to Harry's side. Her hand brushed his elbow, and he jumped slightly, having not felt her friendly hand in many days.

He nodded as Mr. Weasley placed a hand on Hermione's arm. "She'll be fine, Hermione," he said quietly, leading her over to Ginny's bedside. "Tell me how you've been."

Hermione began to speak, casting glances at Harry as Mr. Weasley leaned over and kissed his bed-ridden daughter in welcome. Ginny smiled weakly, but Harry could see her concern and unhappiness in her eyes. He watched them silently, feeling out of place. In what seemed like another lifetime, he would have sat on Ginny's bed, held her hand, and talked to Hermione in return.

And he suddenly missed how it might have been. Sometimes, he didn't like the hate that fueled his life; he wanted to feel loved and love in return.

One of the walls that surrounded his heart began to crumble, little by little, as he watched this tiny circle of love in the face of death. Once, Ginny met his eyes, and in the darkness he saw hints of her pain at his hands, the betrayal she felt from him; but he also saw love, all-encompassing love that filled her face. Her acceptance shamed him; he had been the one to give up in the face of adversity. He was the coward, for all his readiness to fight Voldemort to the death.

There was a small commotion at the entrance to the wing. Harry turned his head to see Charlie Weasley come in, looking very pale under his bright freckles. Instead of going to Ginny's bed, as Harry thought he was going to, he went to Tonks' bedside, taking her small hand in his rough one. Harry watched in surprise, and he could almost feel Hermione and Ginny's shock from behind. He hadn't realized Charlie and Tonks were so close.

"She'll be all right, won't she Madam Pomfrey?" Charlie asked, pale as a ghost.

Madam Pomfrey huffed, waving at another medi-wizard for assistance. "I think so, Mr. Weasley. But you can't just sit there! I need to get to her. Please stand over by your sister," she directed firmly.

Charlie got up, albeit reluctantly, and moved towards his sister, casting looks at Tonks' prone form as Madam Pomfrey and an older medi-wizard bent over her. His eyes met Harry's, and Harry thought he saw a flash of guilt in his friend's brother's eyes as he gazed at him. A pulse of anger shook him; and why shouldn't he be guilty? Remus had only been gone for four months!

"Good friends with Tonks, are you?" he asked, a little more loudly than he had planned.

Stopping to face Harry, Charlie looked him in the eye without fear. "It's not like that, Harry. We've been friends for ages; I knew her at school," he said. "I was worried about her."

Harry nodded curtly, about to leave when Charlie caught his arm roughly. "You should understand this a little; how long did my sister wait for you?" he asked quietly, so only Harry could hear him. "She waited years, and still loved you no matter what you did. I've waited, too."

He paused, boring into Harry's fixed gaze. "I'm not happy that Remus died, not at all; he was a good man. Tonks still cries for him at night. But she's trying to move on and still keep his memory within her. I don't think I'm hurting Remus' memory; I think he would say this was the right thing for the both of us," he said slowly.

Harry was blown away by Charlie's words, feeling small and insignificant next to him. Tonks was trying to move on; who was he to begrudge her any happiness? Remus had even said he wanted her to move on in her life before he had died. And Charlie understood her needs; if there was anyone he needed to be more like, it was Charlie.

Nodding, he pulled away from Charlie. "I'm sorry," he said with real sincerity. "I understand what you mean."

His gaze met Ginny's, and for a moment he wanted to cross the room and take her hand in his, tell her that everything would be all right. But that was not for this moment.

So he walked away after a brief goodbye to Charlie, wondering if he was just making excuses to keep his pain and hate. And he didn't go to the entrance hall to see if he could help; he went back to his room, which helped him not. All he could think of when he sat on his bed were the all-too brief nights he and Ginny had spent here, the love she had professed to him hundreds of times, each time as wonderful to hear as the last.

He wanted to keep his hate, wanted to keep from feeling his grief, his love, his bonds to his friends; but he could feel a wall slowly slipping away from his heart, and it frightened him more than Voldemort ever could.

* * *

Tonks was awake and coherent in just a few hours; she chatted with Ginny as they sat side by side in their beds, Madam Pomfrey fussing over them both. Ginny tried to make friendly conversation, but she found it hard, after seeing Harry so abruptly this morning. She had looked into his eyes and seen the longing and need that had been prevalent in his gaze before Remus' death and her illness. And after his quiet talk with Charlie, she had prayed he would come over and say something-_anything_-to her, but he had left as suddenly as he arrived.

She thought he might be coming back to himself, albeit slowly. From what Hermione had told her this morning, he had locked himself in his room for about two days, and had just come out now. He was talking to people, which was a start; her father had remarked with sadness on how closed-up he seemed. She could only shrug her shoulders; what was she supposed to tell her father? That Harry had gone mad with rage?

Above anything, she wished Madam Pomfrey would let her get out of bed and help. She felt so useless, lying in the Hospital Wing with no curable illness; she wanted to help her brothers, her father; she wanted to help Harry. Whatever he did, she wanted to help him. She knew that he wasn't going to be able to beat Voldemort by himself; who better to help than she? But Madam Pomfrey was adamant about her staying in the Hospital Wing, and she had to settle for that.

She was so lost in thought that she didn't even hear Tonks calling her name. When the older woman reached over and nudged her arm, she came back to herself, smiling weakly at the injured Auror. "Sorry, Tonks; what were you saying?"

Blue eyes narrowed at her, Tonks sat back against her pillow. "I was just asking about Harry. How is he doing?"

Ginny felt her throat close up, and she swallowed with difficulty. "He's very angry right now," she said softly. "He's not thinking clearly."

"I guess he didn't retain my little talk about anger in the Orkneys, did he?" Tonks asked with a frown.

Tilting her head, Ginny gazed at Tonks curiously. "What talk? I didn't know you were there with him."

Shrugging, Tonks took a sip of a glass of water from her bedside table. "Harry was doing stupid things out of the anger he was feeling from your capture, so I tried to talk to him about acting out of anger, and how it doesn't get a person anywhere. I thought he was listening, but maybe I was wrong," she said quietly.

Ginny watched her quietly for a moment, remembering the fuss Charlie had made over her. Her heart had ached for that from Harry; it was what he would have done, if he hadn't been so full of his guilt and rage. She wondered if the thought had crossed his mind as he had watched her brother hold Tonks' hand; his eyes had locked onto them unwaveringly.

"I'm glad you got away, Tonks," she said suddenly, feeling the pang of loss in her heart; she knew Harry was lost to her now. "We all were very worried, especially Charlie."

A light blush filled Tonks' face, and she looked away from Ginny. "It's not exactly what you think. Charlie's always been my friend, and he was really supportive of me after Remus died," she murmured.

She was silent, and Ginny was nearly ready to change the subject; Remus must still be painful for the Auror to think about, as it was for Ginny. But then Tonks began to speak again, voice shakier and softer than before.

"I had a dream about him a few weeks ago. He came to me, and he looked younger and happier than I had ever seen him in life." She paused, sniffing quietly. "He told me that he wanted me to be happy, and that he was glad that I was trying to move on. He told me to be there for Harry, if I could. And then I saw Sirius..."

Wiping her eyes, she began to cry silently. Ginny, listening as if entranced, reached over to clasp her friend's hand. She felt the pricking of tears behind her own eyes as Tonks spoke again.

"They looked peaceful, and happy; they told me to be happy. And I woke up feeling graced and better than I had in months," she said thickly, wiping her face with her free hand. "And I wanted to tell Harry that they were watching him, and that they were happy."

Ginny squeezed her hand, swallowing her tears back into her throat. "He'd want to know that," she said hoarsely. "Harry would want to know."

Tonks smiled, cheeks wet with her tears. "I thought he would. I hope I can tell him before... Well, before everything," she said. "Do you think he'll be up here to visit you?"

Hurt sprang anew in her chest, pounding against her ribs. She shut her eyes for a moment before opening them again, hoping they were free of tears. "I don't know," she replied, voice catching. "I hope so."

Tonks squeezed her hand tightly just as Charlie walked in through the doors, smiling at Tonks. Ginny let go of her friend's hand with a slight smile, and turned to look out the dark window. Rain splintered against the glass, falling like tears from the black sky. She put her hand to the glass, looking down and seeing little figures rushing around the grounds below. She wondered if Harry was one of them, and the breath caught in her throat. The thought of Harry preparing for battle frightened her; she didn't want to send him off without her blessing.

"Please," she whispered softly, so no one but herself could hear. "Please don't let him fight without him knowing I love him. Let him come see me."

* * *

Wiping sweat from her brow, Hermione stood with her partners and surveyed her work with a grim smile. It had been hard, but she had been able to do it; extra protective wards around the Hospital Wing had been a sudden idea that she had blurted out to the headmaster, who had thought it wonderful. Just in case Death Eaters did get into the castle, the extra wards would be a good way to keep the injured from further harm. Now he, herself, Ron, Harry, and other Aurors and students had worked together to build the wards. No Death Eater could get into the wing now; the wounded would be safe. Dumbledore would have Portkeys made to take any wounded directly up here, and no enemy could follow them.

Dumbledore smiled wearily at her. "Brilliant, Miss Granger. Good work, all of you! This is sure to keep our injured friends safe," he said, nodding at all of them in turn.

Ron put a subtle hand on her waist and squeezed gently. "I knew you'd come up with something," he whispered in her ear.

She smiled with the praise, but soon her smile faded as her eyes met Harry's. He was watching them with a careful eye, something unreadable in his gaze. Ever since this morning in the Hospital Wing, she had detected a change within him, even if it was only the slightest bit. Maybe now, she could reach out and bring him back to her and Ron. After all, what was one without the other two?

There were rapid footsteps coming down the corridor, and a young Auror Hermione recalled to be Kingsley Shacklebolt's cousin appeared, panting heavily. "We've just gotten word from one of our scouts; some of You-Know-Who's forces have been spotted near here. He could be here by dawn!" he exclaimed between breaths.

The eyes of the headmaster hardened into ice; he turned to the group clustered near him. "Please go and see if there is anything you can do to help the Aurors," he said gravely.

The group began to disperse, but she and Ron stayed glued to their spots, as did Harry. The three of them glanced at each other carefully; Hermione could feel Ron tense beside her, and knew he was preparing for another brush-off from their oldest friend. She wasn't about to let that happen; not this close to battle.

"Harry," she said quietly, stepping towards him. "Will you walk with us?"

She reached her hand out to him, smiling slightly. Harry looked at her for a moment, dark eyes impenetrable. She was afraid he was going to brush her off, but then he moved towards her slowly, reaching out and taking her hand. His hand was rough and cool in hers, but she was happy to have it no matter what.

Ron came over, face grave. He looked as if he wanted to embrace Harry, but restrained himself. "You think you're ready for this?" he asked gruffly.

Harry met his friend's eyes, pulled away from Hermione for a moment, and put his arms around Ron's back, hugging him as a brother.

"Almost," Hermione heard him say softly as Ron returned the embrace. She felt wetness in her eyes as she watched them; they were finally a trio again, able to fight side by side. It would take a long time for the wounds to heal, but at least they were on the right path.

Ron smiled at her from over Harry's shoulder, and reached out to her. She joined the embrace, relishing the solid forms of her two best friends. They were her rocks, just as she was theirs; together they were unstoppable.

"Shall we walk?" she asked, meeting both of their gazes.

They nodded, and the embrace broke apart. Ron went on one side of her, slipping his arm around her waist, and Harry went on her other side. She put her elbow through his, and they began to walk in unison.

"So it begins at dawn," Ron said. "I wonder what kind of forces he'll have."

She shuddered slightly. "I don't want to think about it."

"I found a spell, you know," Harry said quietly.

Hermione looked up at him. "We thought you might have, when you talked to Dumbledore a couple days ago," she replied.

He sighed; it rippled through him to her skin and Ron's. It was a sigh of someone resigned to his fate, and she got a sudden chill. "It calls upon his victims to help me fight him," he said as they turned a corner. "I think I'll see my parents, and Sirius. And Remus."

The old grief of Remus' death filled her, and she had to blink away sudden tears. Ron inhaled deeply beside her, and she knew he was feeling the same. "Do you think it'll work?" he asked.

"It needs to. It's all I've got."

Harry's despondent reply shook her, and she stopped them for a moment, meeting his dark eyes. "You have us," she said firmly. "We won't leave you. We'll help you beat him."

"Of course we will," Ron said roughly.

"And you have Ginny, too," Hermione added, watching the shadows of Harry's face at the mention of Ginny's name.

"I don't have Ginny," he muttered, turning his face towards the stone wall. Hermione could hear the fall of rain against the roof of the castle, and it only added to the morose mood. She couldn't believe what she had heard from his mouth, and was about to open her mouth to retort his words, but Ron beat her to it.

"Of course you have Ginny," he said, voice strong with passion. He put his hand on Harry's shoulder. "She's been railing to Madam Pomfrey to let her get up and help you, Harry. She would do anything to help you right now."

Hermione squeezed Harry's elbow. "Ron's right. You're the only reason she hasn't given up everything. You should go see her," she said earnestly. "She wants to see you."

Abruptly, Harry slammed his fist against the wall. "She shouldn't want to see me," he said savagely, bowing his head. "I've done her nothing but wrong ever since she got sick; I've been a complete bastard. She should hate me."

Hermione's heart broke for him, and she reached down and took his hand in hers. Ron tightened his grip on his shoulder. "She could never hate you, Harry," he said, voice breaking slightly. "She loves you enough to forgive you for what you've done; she knows it wasn't the real you."

Thunder rolled above their heads; Hermione shivered. She wondered if Harry was listening to their words, or if there was enough hate left inside his mind to keep their voices from reaching him. She knew he was still raging, but she prayed he would follow his heart in this matter. Ginny was praying for the opportunity to give Harry her blessing before he went to battle; if only he would go to see her!

"Use your heart, Harry," she said softly and suddenly. "You know you want to see her. Go; dawn is only a few hours away, and who knows if you'll get another chance."

After a moment's tremulous silence, he raised his head and turned to them both, shaking his head. "I don't deserve you both, or her," he said softly.

Ron squeezed his shoulder. "You don't deserve to live in hate, either," he replied just as quietly.

Harry met their gazes, and Hermione could see a softening within his green eyes. Letting out a slow breath, he nodded. "I'll go now; will you wait for me?"

She and Ron nodded in unison. He gave them a quick, slight smile, and turned back towards the Hospital Wing, walking quickly and with purpose. Ron put his arms around her, resting his chin on the top of her head, and sighed. Curling into his warmth, she buried her face in his chest, listening to the storm raging above them.

* * *

He slipped into the Hospital Wing as lightning streaked across the sky, illuminating the space for a moment. Ron and Hermione's words echoed in his mind as he went straight to Ginny's bed, standing at the end and looking down at her sleeping form with a sharp pang of regret. If this was to be his last glimpse of her, he wanted her to be awake, smiling at him and holding out her arms as she had done before. He had realized too late all of what she had done for him; he could only pray that he had done something for her in return.

He loved her. She had taught him how to love and not to fear the love of others.

And now he went to fight for her, of everything.

"Forgive me," he whispered, throat closing as the words escaped his mouth without preamble. "I've done everything wrong from the beginning, but I didn't mean to. I didn't mean to push you away. I'm a coward; I can't bring myself to wake you up so you can hear this. I can only pray you do hear it."

Moving silently, he went to her side, brushing his fingers lightly against her pale cheek. "I love you, Ginny Weasley," he said softly. "I would die for you."

With that, he leaned down and touched his mouth to her creased forehead, smoothing away the worry lines as gently as possible. "If I die," he whispered against her skin, "Learn to live. Be happy in your life. Don't forget me."

He straightened and gazed at her face one last time, memorizing the features he had grown to love. And because the yearning for her that had driven him up here was not satisfied, he lowered his head once more and pressed a kiss to her partly-open mouth, tasting her for the last time and treasuring every breath that left her lungs and entered his.

Pulling back, he watched her carefully, thinking he had felt her stir under him. She shifted in her sleep, moving but not waking. He stayed by her side for another moment, drinking in her face to keep it with him in the battle to come, and then went resolutely to the door. He did not look back as he left; he did not see her eyes open and hear her call his name softly.

Ron and Hermione were waiting for him exactly where he had left them, expectant looks on their faces. He nodded briefly, not willing to tell them that she had been asleep. The three of them traveled onward down the corridors, wands in their pockets and courage in their hearts. This was how he had always imagined going to fight Voldemort; he had always seen Ron and Hermione at his side. Now he realized how stupid he had been to try and shove them away; he wasn't nearly as strong alone as he was when he was with them.

He carried the image of Ginny's sleeping face in his mind as he walked further and further away from her. He could only hope he would come back to her and see her eyes open once again.

Harry stood outside the large doors of the entrance hall, rain beginning to soak through his robes, as the inky blackness of night began to fade into a muted grey. His wand was clenched in his fist tightly, eyes focused on the distant gates of the school. The waiting had begun a few hours earlier, and it was by far the worst part of this ordeal. Half of the forces amassed by Dumbledore were inside the gates of Hogwarts, and the other half had taken to deserted Hogsmeade to make the first stand. Many Order members, including Fred and George, were in that first force. Harry felt a sick sense of foreboding fill him; who knew what kind of army Voldemort had? What would they have to face?

Ron and Hermione were on one side of him, talking very quietly and holding hands. He tried to give them a little privacy; no doubt they were saying some last words of affection before the fighting began. Again, he wished he had had the courage to wake Ginny up; but what was done was done, and he could only look forward.

"I see you are at the ready, Harry."

Professor Dumbledore stepped to his other side, face set in grave lines. There was no bright twinkle in his eyes this morning, but Harry hadn't expected one. He straightened his back, meeting the headmaster's gaze. "I think I am, sir," he replied.

Distant shouts echoed around them; the wizards looked towards the village, seeing the flashes of spells light up the grey gloom. Harry tensed, taking a deep breath; Voldemort had arrived.

He felt a hand on his shoulder, and looked up. Dumbledore was smiling slightly down at him, patting his shoulder. "I have no doubt that you will be a brilliant wizard, Harry; you have the talents of your parents and your own special talents to carry you through life."

As Harry listened to the headmaster, a morbid thought caught him and held him fast. This was Dumbledore's goodbye, in case the old man fell today. Grief filled him; another goodbye, another loss.

"I know that today you will face Voldemort, and you will defeat him. Why, you think? Because I know you fight with your heart, for those your care for," Dumbledore continued quietly, seemingly ignoring the shouts and explosions from the village. The wizards were becoming restless, looking to Dumbledore for direction, but he continued to speak to Harry.

"The reason you have overcome him so far is because of your heart; remember what he does not understand, and you shall be the most powerful person he has ever faced," he finished, letting go of Harry's shoulder and moving forward through the crowds.

Harry watched his tall, proud figure walk away, and felt graced by the warm spot on his shoulder where his hand had been. He had to make Dumbledore proud, a man who had so much faith in him. He had to make his parents, Sirius, and Remus proud, they who gave up their lives for his. He had to make Ginny proud; he had to come back for her.

A jet of yellow light went up in the distance; it was the signal Mad-Eye and Dumbledore had agreed upon for assistance. Dumbledore faced the wizards muttering before him and held his hands up for silence. Hermione put her hand on Harry's arm, squeezing gently as Dumbledore began to speak in a clear, resonating voice.

"My friends! Let us go into battle with the hearts of Gryffindors! There is nothing out there that you cannot defeat!" he exclaimed, turning and setting forth towards the gates.

Harry glanced at Hermione and Ron, and saw them set their faces in determination, wands at their sides. He smiled slightly; they returned the smile.

And they went from the castle, readying for the most important battle of their lives.

* * *

He had come to her.

He _had_ come.

Ginny watched desperately as Tonks pulled her robes on over her hospital gown. The sky was beginning to lighten; she knew that the time was drawing near. Madam Pomfrey had protested mightily when Tonks said she was going down to the battle, but she could do nothing to stop the Auror. But Ginny, she said, was not to leave.

Ginny nearly throttled the nurse as she walked away. Not to go? She wasn't going to stay in here if she could help it. Harry had come, and he had told her he loved her, and that was all the strength she needed to get up. She felt as if she could fly for him.

If only Tonks would let her come!

"Tonks, _please_," she said quietly, clasping her hands together in her lap. "I have to go!"

Looking helpless, Tonks buttoned up her robes and pulled back her long black hair. "Madam Pomfrey said you were to stay, Ginny. You're truly ill," she replied.

Furious, Ginny pulled back the covers and sat up, feet dangling off the edge of the bed. "Damn Madam Pomfrey!" she hissed. "Harry is down there, and if I don't help him, he won't come back!"

Her voice broke as she finished her sentence, and she had to turn away from the stricken Auror, eyes burning. She knew she had to go to him; it was instinct, and her instincts never lied. The thought of him dying without her being able to say goodbye... It was unthinkable.

"If you don't help me," she said, voice low, "I will jump out this window to get down there."

Meeting Tonks' eyes, she knew she had made an impression. "Do you have your wand?" Tonks asked quietly.

Hand diving under her pillow, she pulled out her wand. Tonks sighed slowly, then nodded. "Ok, but stay by me! You have to be careful; Madam Pomfrey would kill me if she knew I was doing this," she fretted, going over to Ginny and helping her to her feet. "You can't stand for long periods of time! What are you going to do?"

Ginny gripped her wand, steadying her shaking legs. Her nightdress was thin; she could feel the chill of the air on her skin. But she was determined. "Anything I can," she said fiercely, looking into Tonks' eyes.

Sighing again, Tonks smiled slightly. "Harry's lucky to have you," she said softly before leading Ginny out of the wing, hurrying as not to be caught by Madam Pomfrey, whose back was turned to them.

Ginny's heart sped up as she left the Hospital Wing for the first time in weeks. _I'm coming, Harry. I'm coming. _

She was ready to face Tom for the final time.

* * *

Brushing his fringe back quickly, Harry took a few deep breaths, looking from side to side quickly. All around him, duels were commencing between Death Eaters and Aurors, giants were destroying buildings, and rain was falling steadily, helping to control the fires that had started. He tasted blood from a wound on his head in his mouth and swallowed, walking forward a few steps. Already he had been separated from Ron and Hermione by Death Eaters wishing to deliver him to their lord, and already he had killed.

He tried not to look at the ground, wet with rain and blood, afraid he would see someone he knew lying dead by his feet. Wiping the rain from his glasses, he continued his search for Voldemort, ducking spells and keeping his Shield Charm up all the while. He had yet to find any Malfoy, and hoped that Ron would have the pleasure of capturing the younger of the two Malfoy men.

He didn't know how long he had been fighting; the sky was grey with rain, and it didn't help his sense of time. The lack of sleep over the past few days was beginning to affect him, and he had to blink rapidly to keep his focus. At least the wards of Hogwarts hadn't been breached yet; Ginny was still safe.

"Harry!"

He whirled around, seeing Tonks running towards him. She looked bloodied and bruised, but much better than she had looked when he brought her to Madam Pomfrey yesterday.

"Tonks, what's wrong?" he asked quickly, seeing the fearful look in her eyes.

She opened her mouth to speak, but was caught in her side by a jet of red light. With a scream, she fell to the ground, quivering in pain. Harry went to his knees immediately, pulling out the Portkey Dumbledore had handed out to everyone in case of injury. As he was about to activate it, a cold, amused voice reached his ears.

"Well, if it isn't ickle Potter."

Looking up, he saw the sneering, twisted face of Bellatrix Lestrange standing over him, the blood lust rampant in her hard gaze. Immediately, bitter anger rose within him, drowning out everything else in his mind. He stood up, standing over Tonks' moaning form. This was the woman who had killed Sirius. He was finally going to have his revenge.

She smirked. "My poor little niece always was confused in her choices; first the Order, then that werewolf... I'm glad I'll be the one to correct her," she hissed, raising her wand. "But first you, Potter. I've waited to get my hands on you for years."

"You're not touching her, and you're not touching me," he retorted, wand clenched in his fist. "I'm going to make you pay for what you did to Sirius."

Laughing viciously, she moved a step closer to him. "Oh yes! My most glorious day, getting rid of that wretched cousin of mine," she crowed. "You'll be seeing him soon enough, you stupid boy."

If someone had told him that a year ago, that thought might have brought him comfort. But now there was only the cold calculating anger to fill him; no grief or guilt. Only the anger would help him kill Bellatrix and avenge the death of Sirius. "Glory? What do you know of glory? I've heard you beg for mercy, just as Voldemort will be tonight!" he spat.

The hate in her eyes flashed brightly. "Do not speak his name, worthless half-blood!" she screamed, aiming her wand and shouting the Cruciatus Curse at the top of her lungs.

He dodged the flash of red, coolly putting up his Shield Charm with his wand and using his wandless magic to cast a Severing Hex at her. Barely dodging it, she tried to stun him, but the spell bounced off of his shield and went flying through the air. With a scream of frustration, she leapt towards him, throwing hex after hex at him. Stepping backwards at the ferocity of her attack, he tried to regain his ground, but she had gone berserk with her rage. She actually reached out and shoved him to his knees, breaking his concentration on the Shield Charm and allowing her to cast a quick Cruciatus Curse upon him.

Pain seared him, exploding through his scar and out his fingers. Shutting his eyes, he let out a cry and curled into himself, red-hot pain ripping into him. He could hear her maniacal laughter as she pressed her wand against his heart, screaming at him above his cries.

"You shall fall at my hand, just as that cousin and the werewolf did! I shall torture you just as I did the werewolf, that filthy creature!" she exclaimed.

Deadly rage washed over him, numbing the pain and freeing his limbs. Eyes snapping open, he snarled and pushed against her, knocking her to her back. The grief and pain of Remus came at him triple-fold as he raised his wand and leveled it at her chest. "You'll pay for everything!" he cried, screaming "Crucio!" with true and unrestrained hate. He relished her screams, wanting every ion of pain he had ever felt to sink into her skin and kill her.

She began to scream for her husband, but he paid no mind, cursing her with his hoarse voice until he felt searing pain in his limbs and fell over, concentration lost. Looking up at he twitched in pain, he saw Rodolphos Lestrange hovering over him, wand loose in his hand. His wife still moaned on her back a few feet away, blood trickling down her face. Harry looked up through the stinging pain with absolute fury, enraged that he had not been paying attention.

Lestrange looked down on him, violence narrowing his eyes. "You will regret that, Potter," he said icily, leveling his wand at Harry's chest. "Avada-"

"Kedavra."

A quiet, rage-filled voice from behind Lestrange finished the curse. There was a flash of green light, and Lestrange froze, limbs stiffening. He crashed to the ground, dead, revealing the shaking form of Ginny Weasley standing behind him, wand outstretched. The look on her face was one of determination; she didn't flinch as she went to Harry and helped him to his feet.

Harry grasped her shoulders, staring into her eyes. Disbelief reined his mind; how had she had the strength to come down here to battle? He had misjudged her courage greatly; he had misjudged everything.

"Ginny, you shouldn't be here," he said hoarsely, throat rough from his cries, barely able to hear his own voice over the sounds of battle.

She looked up at him with a slight smile, taking his hands in her own. The look in her eyes could only be described as complete love and bravery. "I should be wherever you are," she replied softly.

"How touching, Virginia. I though we had learned our lesson about playing with Harry Potter."

The cold voice was no surprise to Harry as he and Ginny turned to see Voldemort standing before them, a calculating smile on his thin mouth. Harry felt Ginny falter slightly beside him and pushed her behind him, determined to keep her unharmed. "Leave her out of this, Tom," he said fiercely. "This is between you and me."

Voldemort's piercing red eyes narrowed. "Don't play the hero, Potter. We all know what happened the last time you tried that, or don't you remember Sirius Black?"

Hate overwhelmed Harry, and he nearly dove at Voldemort then. Only Ginny's tight grip on his hand kept him grounded. "Don't listen to him," she murmured. "You know he's wrong."

Her words kept him from bolting; he tried to regain control of himself. "It's hard not to play the hero when you're prophesized as one," he retorted coldly.

"Don't test me, you stupid boy. I could kill you where you stand," Voldemort threatened.

Harry laughed without amusement, tightening his grip on Ginny's hand. "Then why haven't you?" he taunted.

Voldemort sneered. "Don't be so eager for death, Potter, or I may not give it to you."

He flung his hand out in a smooth gesture, and Ginny was ripped away from him, hitting the ground with a rough cry. Blood boiling, he turned on Voldemort, enraged. "Leave her out of it! She's done nothing to you!" he exclaimed, pulling out his wand.

"On the contrary, she has tried to foil me at every step! She who thought she could overcome the Dark Lord! She will pay for her stubbornness; I have always owned her, and now she will realize it!" Voldemort crowed, smiling viciously.

Watching helplessly as Ginny struggled to her knees, Harry met her gaze. A small smile of encouragement flitted across her face, and she got to her feet shakily, grimacing with the effort. A new power filled him as he watched her, different from his anger but no less strong. At that moment, he knew he was ready to face Lord Voldemort for the last time.

"I shall take care of Virginia later; now it is your turn to fall, Potter," Voldemort said, eyes glinting. "Your precious Dumbledore is gone; no one can save you now!"

Harry faced his enemy, power building at his fingertips. Dumbledore may have been gone, but his words remained. If he didn't perform the spell now, he may not get another chance...

"Stupefy!"

Both he and Voldemort turned, startled by Ginny's abrupt cry. Behind him, Bellatrix laid Stunned, her wand in her hand and her mouth open as if she was going to speak. Ginny was making her way back to Harry's side, glaring fiercely at Voldemort. Harry was amazed by her sudden display of strength, and he reached out to put an arm around her waist to steady her.

Voldemort was hardly amused; indeed, his face was quite pale and pinched, his fingers clenching around his wand forebodingly. "You will stay silent, Virginia, or suffer the consequences!" he exclaimed.

Ginny smiled without amusement, taking Harry's hand and squeezing tightly. "You always seem to forget, Tom; you don't own me. You never had," she said calmly.

If he had been a normal man, Voldemort's face would have been purple with rage. "You forget your place, you foolish girl!"

Her chin rose slightly. "It's right here: next to Harry," she replied steadily, not a drop of fear in her tone.

Harry smiled, squeezing her hand, and raised his wand. It was time. "_Claudo Hic Victimae _Voldemort!"

At the same time, Voldemort had raised his own wand. "Avada Kedavra!" he cried.

A gold jet of light sped from Harry's wand as he and Ginny scrambled to dogde the green light from Voldemort's wand. There was a sudden explosion of light and Harry had to shut his eyes to prevent from being blinded. When the light faded, he opened his eyes to see the gold light rising up into the air, surrounding Voldemort, who was looking more and more enraged by the moment. The gold light split into two, circling around Voldemort and creating a shining sphere around him. His wand began to glow, and from it came silver light, pouring out onto the ground and filling the area.

Battles were halting as all eyes turned to Harry and Voldemort. Harry inhaled sharply as the silver light began to take shape into figures familiar to almost everyone fighting. The lean form of Remus Lupin rose up from the light, followed by a grinning Sirius Black, who was followed by the twin figures of James and Lily Potter. More forms rose, but Harry was transfixed by the sight before him. Beside him, he heard Ginny gasp; she clutched his hand tightly.

As the other forms surrounded Voldemort, the shining figures of Remus, Sirius, James, and Lily came towards Harry and Ginny, all smiling gently.

"What did I tell you, Harry?" Remus said, voice echoing as if it was from very far away. "Those who we love never leave us."

Harry felt his throat close; he could only nod, not trusting his voice. Ginny held his hand tightly as they heard Voldemort's cries for help.

Sirius nodded towards Voldemort. "Finish him off, Harry. We'll guide your power," he said.

"You help him as well, Ginny," Lily added gently, smiling at Harry and nodding.

Licking his lips, Harry looked down at Ginny. "Ready?" he asked softly.

She smiled up at him, eyes bright. "Absolutely."

Harry nodded. She raised her wand so that it was level with his. They aimed towards Voldemort, took a breath in unison, and said, "Avada Kedavra!"

The silver spirits sped along the twin spells, rushing past the golden web entrapping Voldemort, and crashing into his form. A horrible yell echoed throughout the area, a scream of one who knew where he was headed and was petrified. Lights flashed blindingly bright across the sky; Harry ducked his head, burying his face in Ginny's hair as she put her face to his shoulder. The screams faded, as did the lights, and suddenly there was silence.

Lifting his head, Harry looked towards where Voldemort had been, and inhaled sharply. Nothing was left except for the remains of his black robes. The silver spirits drifted towards the skies, fading as the rain tapered off, leaving only sprinkles and grey clouds. Only Remus, Sirius, and his parents remained, fading just as the others. They smiled at Harry, waving.

"You've done so well, Harry. We're so proud of you," James said quietly.

"Don't worry; we're always watching you," Lily added gently.

Sirius opened his mouth, then closed it, then opened it again. His eyes looked unusually bright, even if he was silver. "I never blamed you, Harry. I thought you were the most brilliant boy ever," he finally said, voice hoarse.

Harry thought he was going to collapse; Sirius' words brought the grief back, but in a slightly good way.

Remus only smiled. "Remember what I said, Harry," he said, slowly fading away.

Harry and Ginny watched silently as all four faded into the air, glints of silver the only thing left to mark their places. Around them, Death Eaters were dropping their wands and allowing themselves to be rounded up by Aurors, although some were fighting harder than most. They heard people call to them, walk towards them.

Feeling completely spent, Harry dropped to his knees, wand falling from his hand. He felt a burning behind his eyes, felt a sense of never-ending grief overwhelm him. He felt as if he had accomplished nothing.

Someone kneeled beside him; hands lifted his face to meet a bright, dark gaze. It was Ginny.

"Harry, are you all right?" she asked thickly, a tear falling from her eye and tracing a path through the blood and dirt on her face.

He looked into her eyes, and felt something break within him. Pulling her to him, he buried his face in her neck and began to shake, wanting to cry, but not able to let himself go. She held him tightly, whispering in his ear and kissing his cheek, as the smoke cleared around them. The clouds drifted overhead, continuing to make the day grey.

_Author's Notes: I said this was last, but there will be an epilogue, because I hate ending on odd numbers. Well, no, that's not why; it needs an epilogue. Anywho, that should be out in about a week, if my muse keeps up the good work. Many thanks to Anne, and please review!_


	10. Something To Live For

Chapter Ten

Feeling warm sun on her face, Ginny opened her eyes, the quilt heavy on her body. She blinked away the sleepiness from her gaze, sitting up slowly and finding herself in her old bed in the hospital wing, surrounded by camp beds that were filled by the injured. Brushing the hair from her face, she gazed out the window, seeing sun for the first time in days, and she smiled slightly. It was over; it was finally over.

She couldn't exactly recall how she had gotten to the hospital wing; all she remembered was kneeling next to Harry in Hogsmeade and then helping him to his feet before feeling other hands guiding her. Keeping her hand in Harry's, she had let those around her lead her, and then she didn't remember anything. She must have fainted before getting back to the school.

But, looking around, she found herself alone. Where was Harry?

"Ginny!"

Swinging her legs over the bed, she looked up to see Ron and Hermione smiling at her a few feet away. They looked no worse for the wear, but pale. "Are you all right?" Ron asked, voice touched with concern as they came over to her.

She nodded, reaching for their hands to help her to her feet. "Yes, I feel fine. What time is it? What happened? Where's Harry?" she asked, surprised at the hoarseness of her voice.

Hermione steadied her, letting her get her balance. "It's November first. You've been sleeping for almost a whole day," she said gently, squeezing her hand.

Ginny blinked, mouth falling open in disbelief. "A whole day?"

Ron laughed slightly. "Yeah, a whole day," he said, voice unusually gruff. "Decided to be lazy on me, eh?"

Glancing at him, she smiled slightly, and embraced him. "Are you all right? What about our brothers, and Mum and Dad?" she asked, pulling back from him and feeling very grateful to see him alive.

He nodded, leaning down to kiss her forehead. "I'm fine, as are all our brothers. Charlie is a bit banged up, but he'll be fine. He's more worried about Tonks; she hasn't woken up yet," he said soberly. "Mum's with Dad; he got hit with some curses, but the Healers say he'll be ok in a few days or so."

Slightly relieved, Ginny took a tentative step forward. "Tonks isn't ok?" she asked shakily. She would hate to think that it was her fault Tonks was injured; after all, she had lost herself looking for Harry, and Tonks had probably been looking for her.

Hermione kept a light hold on Ginny's hand. "The Healers say she'll be fine, she just hasn't woken up yet. Don't worry," she said softly, a comforting smile on her face.

Ginny looked at them both curiously. "What happened? Did we get all the Death Eaters?" she asked.

Ron and Hermione shared a look before Ron replied. "A few got away, but the Aurors took in most of them. After Harry killed Voldemort-" his voice still shook as he said the name- "we went over to you two, but you both passed out. Moody told us to take you up here, so we did. We don't know a lot; Dumbledore hasn't explained anything to us yet."

"Dumbledore's alive?" she asked in surprise. "Voldemort told us he was dead."

Smiling slightly, Hermione shook her head. "No, he's quite alive, though injured. I suspect Dumbledore was dueling with him, and Voldemort saw Harry, so he tried to severely injure Dumbledore to get to Harry faster. Maybe he thought it would weaken Harry to think Dumbledore was dead."

Harry.

"Where is Harry?" Ginny asked quickly. "Is he all right?"

"He's fine, he's sleeping on the other side of the room, next to Tonks," Ron replied, taking Ginny's elbow in his grasp gently. "Tell me, how did you get down to the fight? You were supposed to stay here." The look in his eyes was only slightly scolding, more proud than anything.

She felt warmth in her as she smiled at him softly, thankful to have such a family around her. "I made Tonks bring me down; I knew I couldn't let you all go without me," she said quietly.

Both he and Hermione wrapped her in their arms, sandwiching her between them loosely. "I'm glad you're all right," Hermione said in her ear.

"I'm proud to have you as my sister, Gin. You're absolutely brilliant," Ron whispered, kissing her forehead again as he and Hermione let go of her gently.

Blinking away sudden tears, she smiled at the both of them. "Thank you," she said quietly before turning away and beginning her search for Harry.

It didn't take her long to find him, and when she did, she immediately sat on the edge of his bed, taking his limp hand on hers. He looked troubled still, even in his sleep, and she had to wonder what he really thought about the end of this struggle. It had been the driving force in his life since he was a small child; how was he going to move past it? She brushed the fringe from his closed eyes, smiling down at him slightly. Maybe he would now give himself the opportunity to grieve for his losses, let her be beside him to help.

She felt a slight brush of fear pass her, fear for him, for their life together; would things ever be the same? No, not the same; would things ever be normal again? He could go on to be a normal man with a regular job, a regular life; would he be able to function without always looking over his shoulder? The bulls-eye on his back had always been such a prevalent part of his life, and she wondered if he could ever move past it.

He shifted in his sleep, and she could feel his fingers flex against hers. Looking down, she saw his eyes flutter open, dark against the pallor of his skin. His gaze settled on her and his lips curved upwards ever so slightly, his hand tightening around hers. "You're ok," he said, voice a low rasp.

She nodded, shifting closer to him and keeping a firm grip on his hand. "I'm fine," she replied softly, brushing her fingers through his hair. "How are you?"

Grunting softly, he shut his eyes, a half-smile, half-grimace creasing his face. "I've been better," he whispered.

Smiling slightly, she leaned down and kissed his forehead, lingering over his scar. "You did it, Harry," she said against his skin. "It's over."

His eyes opened, meeting hers with a hardness she didn't recognize. "Is it?" he asked quietly. "What does that mean for me?"

A small frown passed over her face, and she lifted an eyebrow. "I don't know what it means," she said slowly, licking her lips nervously.

Something flitted through his eyes, something she couldn't place, and then his gaze softened. "Don't mind me," he said with a small, dry chuckle which lacked amusement. "I'm not thinking clearly."

_No,_ she thought sadly as he sat up against his pillow, grimacing at the effort, _I think you are thinking very clearly, and it worries me. What does all this mean?_

He smiled at her, grasping her hand tightly. "I was worried about you," he confessed softly. "You look good; everything's normal with you?"

She realized with a start that he was asking about her possession. Shutting her eyes for a moment, she found herself blissfully empty. She hadn't felt so _individual_ in a very long time; it took her by surprise as she opened her eyes to meet his questioning gaze. "Yes, I'm perfectly fine," she assured him. "I feel better than I have in months."

A sigh shivered through him, and he leaned forward, placing his free hand on the curve of her waist. "Then it was worth it," he said softly, lips brushing against her cheek.

Inhaling suddenly, she looked at him curiously. "Worth what? What do you mean?" she asked, suspicion gnawing at her.

He studied her for a moment before leaning back, keeping his hand at her waist. "Never mind," he said lightly, eyes glancing around the wing as people began to stir.

Narrowing her gaze, she watched him carefully. She had been expecting lowness of a sort, but this was bordering on melancholia. She thought he would be happier than he was to be alive and well, and his whole persona perplexed her.

"Harry, you're awake. What a relief."

She felt Harry's sharp intake of breath as the headmaster approached them slowly, leaning heavily on a cane that had not been in his hands before the battle. He seemed to have grown much older in the last few days; Ginny could see that clearly. But the twinkle so long gone from his eyes had returned, and he still kept his stature and bearing. She was happy to see him alive, and smiled with real warmth at him as he sat down in a chair near Harry's bedside, smiling at the both of them.

"I'm very glad to see you both up and about. How are you feeling?" Dumbledore asked kindly.

Ginny glanced at Harry as she spoke, feeling more than seeing his shock. "Fine, sir. It's good to see you," she said quietly.

"He said you were dead," Harry said quietly, shaking his head. "I believed him."

Dumbledore raised a brow and smiled. "But it did not have the desired effect upon you, obviously. I admire your strength, Harry; I wish I had a little more of it in my supply. Tell me, did the spell work as you hoped?"

Squeezing Harry's hand, she saw his throat tighten, Adam's apple bobbing roughly. "Yes, it did," he said finally, voice restricted. Her heart broke for him; he had seen and spoken to the four most important people in his life, and could never again. It must have been hard on him, harder than she could ever imagine.

Dumbledore nodded, eyes glimmering. "Good; that means you used it in the right way with the right purpose. I assume you were there, Ginny," he said, looking at her.

She nodded briefly. He smiled, a touch of pride in his voice. "I knew you would be; it was right for you to be by Harry's side. Your courage and resilience is to be admired by many."

Blushing lightly, she felt Harry's hand tighten on her waist. "Thank you, sir. Will you be all right?" she asked, trying to shift the attention from her.

"Oh, yes. I shall be quite fine, as will we all. We can finally begin to live without fear, with our free wills to guide us," he said cheerfully, grasping the head of his cane lightly. "The world will move forward, and so will we."

Even as she smiled in agreement, she could feel Harry stiffen under her hand, and her heart fell to the floor. It was all well and good for the world to move on, but if Harry was left behind she didn't know what she would do. She had to get him to talk to her no matter what, before whatever he was feeling ate away at him.

Dumbledore nodded at them both and stood with the assistance of his cane. "I must go around to speak to others; there is a legal matter that I must discuss with you both at another time. Until then, please do as the Healers tell you." He gave them both a genial smile and moved slowly away.

Beside her, Harry let out a slow breath. "I can't believe he's alive."

Ginny followed the headmaster with her eyes for a moment before looking back at Harry. "I wonder what legal matter he's talking about," she said, pursing her lips.

He shrugged, pulling her closer to him with the hand that gripped her waist. "I'll worry about that later. I need to tell you something, Ginny," he said quietly, looking into her eyes.

The steadiness of his gaze unnerved her, and she shifted nervously. "Is something wrong?"

A small smile curved his mouth, taking the breath from her throat. She hadn't seen him smile in what seemed like an eternity. "I was an idiot, a horrible, awful idiot to you," he said softly. "I shouldn't have abandoned you, but I did, and I will never forgive myself for that."

A stray tear burned at the corner of her eye, and she blinked. "I forgave you a long time ago, Harry," she said gently, squeezing his hand. "You shouldn't concern yourself about it."

"I have to say it, though; yesterday could have been different, and if I had died with telling you this, I don't know how you would have forgiven me." He glanced away from her for a moment, collecting himself before gazing back into her eyes. "I will never leave you again, Ginny; I swear that I will never abandon you," he said gently, leaning forward to kiss her.

His touch on her lips was brief and gentle, but it inflamed her all the same. She kissed him back with the same amount of softness, free hand traveling to sift through his hair. She thought she heard Ron catcalling them from across the room, but she didn't care. When he pulled away, he was smiling, but it was a different sort of smile, a forced smile that unnerved her. Then she realized with a start that she didn't want to taste his darkness anymore. She wanted him to be free from his demons, to be able to live like a normal man. But if she had felt right, he had a lot of demons to conquer; she hoped he would let her stay by his side as he did.

* * *

With much reluctance, Madam Pomfrey was forced to release Harry and Ginny after another few days, due to the lack of beds in the Hospital Wing. She was firm and unyielding in her orders for them to keep calm and rest, and with Mrs. Weasley keeping a watchful eye on them, they were forced to comply. Classes had been suspended for the time being, and any students who wanted to go were sent home to their families; Dumbledore said he did not know when the school would be ready for classes again, but Harry had a feeling it would be soon.

All remaining students and staff were set on getting the school back into shape as quickly as possible, and since it did not suffer too much damage, they were making good progress at a week after the battle. The injured Aurors, students, and teachers were recovering quite well; all Weasleys were accounted for, as well as all their significant others, and soon they were all departing for their homes. Mrs. Weasley spent a good deal of her time with Harry, Hermione, and her two youngest children during her stay at Hogwarts, and she offered to bring them home to the Burrow, but all four declined graciously. As much as Harry loved the Burrow and the Weasleys, he didn't want to be fussed over any more. Indeed, he really just wanted to be left alone.

He spent a good deal of time alone in the days after the final battle; Ron and Hermione were busy helping the Ministry workers and the teachers with the school and grounds, and Ginny had been cloistered to her own dormitory to complete her rest. She had only been to see him a few times, and each time her mother dragged her away after a few short minutes. Harry didn't mind as much as he thought he should; the thought of solitude comforted him.

Even though Voldemort was dead and Ginny was saved, he couldn't help but feel like he was useless. He'd done what he was born to do, hadn't he? And he hadn't been able to save all the Aurors who'd died, or Remus, or Sirius; what kind of hero was he? The press lauded him, sent him owls by the hundreds to gain access into his mind, but he didn't have any of it. He didn't feel like a hero, didn't feel like he had accomplished anything. Was he worthless to the world now that Voldemort was gone? It felt like that was all he had been living for.

He was ashamed of himself for thinking like this when he knew he should be happy that he could live without the fear of being attacked all the time, but he had been a fatalist too long; was it even really over? Some Death Eaters had escaped, including the elder Malfoy; what if they resurfaced with new followers and tried to finish Voldemort's work? Was he, The Boy-Who-Lived, supposed to defend the wizarding world again? Was that all he was meant to do?

Every time he thought of the battle, he always went back to his battle with Bellatrix, and how he had been so full of hate. He had used an Unforgivable Curse on her, and he had _meant _it. She had taunted him in the Department of Mysteries about not being able to use them since he didn't have real hate, and now he knew that she had spoken true. To use one of those curses and mean it like he had... It made him question whether he was still human, whether he was still deserving of life. He had thought it had been worth it in the Hospital Wing, but now he wasn't so sure. To think that he had touched evil and welcomed it like that frightened him deep inside. He didn't know how he could survive like this, didn't know how he could face his friends. He was questioning the very purity of his soul.

These were the thoughts running through his head as he moved about his room late at night, the day after the Weasleys had left and almost a week and a half after the battle in Hogsmeade. Sleep wouldn't come to him, and he didn't have anyone to talk to; Ginny was in her dormitory, and Ron was most likely in Hermione's room. He didn't want to disturb any of them, so he was left to himself, pacing back and forth and wondering whether the future was really worth it. What did he have left for him anyway? Everyone would want him, but only for his name; he wanted to make his own way, do what he wanted to do.

But what was that?

He was so engrossed in his thoughts that he barely registered the quiet knock on his door. It wasn't until the third and loudest knock that he went to the door and opened it, dreading whoever it was. He was pleasantly surprised to see Ginny at his door, eyebrow raised.

"Am I bothering you?" she asked carefully, hands twisted together in front of her.

Shaking his head, he moved away from the door. "Come in," he said, pleased to see her looking so healthy and well. He hadn't seen her look so good in ages, it seemed. "I wasn't doing anything."

She smiled at him slightly, brushing her hand along his shoulder as she entered. "You look good," she commented lightly as he shut the door. "It's late, though; why are you still awake?"

He shrugged, watching her as he leaned against his door. "Can't sleep. How'd you know I was up?"

"I didn't; I reckoned you would be," she said simply, sitting at the foot of his bed and meeting his gaze. Her eyes were bright and healthy, although he thought he saw a touch of worry in her countenance. "How are you feeling?"

Glancing away from her, he shrugged again, studying the wood of the floor. "Fine, I guess. Healthy," he said. He didn't want to burden her with his thoughts; he'd been a burden to her enough already. "And you?"

"I've been worried about you," she confessed softly, the tone of her voice making him look at her once more. There was complete caring and concern in her voice, something he hadn't heard in a long time. "You've been staying in here a lot."

He shifted uncomfortably, straightening and walking towards his window. "Madam Pomfrey said to rest, so I've been resting," he said quickly, gazing out onto the dark grounds.

She laughed quietly. "Since when have you ever listened to her?" she teased.

He didn't answer, glancing at her from the corner of his eye. Her slight smile was fading, and her eyes were narrowed. Fixing his eyes onto the grounds, he heard her shift on his bed.

"Harry, please talk to me. Tell me what's wrong," she pleaded gently as he heard her get to her feet and walk towards him. "I want to help you."

Shutting his eyes, he rested a palm on the cold glass of his window, shoulders tensing. "I don't think you can, Ginny," he said quietly as her hand grazed his shoulder.

He felt her hands at his waist, and her cheek rested against the curve of his shoulder, breath hitting his neck gently. "I'll decide that," she said softly. "Just tell me what you're thinking. I can't tell anymore."

He took a deep breath, muscles relaxing at her touch. Opening his eyes, he could see the reflection of her hair in the window, candlelight jumping into the strands and swallowing the color. "I don't want to burden you," he said, clenching his hand against the glass as his other hand reached down to cover hers. "You've been through enough because of me."

A sigh rippled through her and reverberated into his skin. "I haven't 'been through' anything because of you; do you think I blame you for anything that's happened to me?" she asked softly, shifting her head to press a light kiss to the side of his neck. "Please talk to me, I want you to talk to me."

Shutting his eyes for a moment, his hand fisted against the window. His thoughts formed words that welled up in his throat and try as he might he couldn't swallow them down. There was something about her that made him want to share everything, make him want to tell her exactly what he was thinking, and he had never felt that before. When he opened his eyes, she was gazing at him steadily with only concern and love, both of which he felt as if he didn't deserve.

"It doesn't seem like there's anything left for me," he said after a moment of silence, averting his eyes so he wouldn't have to see her reflection. "I've done what I was born to do, so what's left for me?

He could feel her body stiffen behind him. "I'm still here," she said very quietly, almost inaudibly. "I'm what's left for you. Isn't that worth something?"

Sighing, he leaned his forehead against the window. "Why would you want to stay with me? I'm nothing now, I don't have anything going for me. You saw what I did to Bellatrix Lestrange; I tortured her with an Unforgivable, I touched evil."

"Harry, you didn't mean to," she said softly, cheek pressed to his shoulder.

He flattened his hand against the window, banging it quite abruptly, so abruptly that she jumped in shock. "I _did_ mean it! I wanted to hurt her, I felt that hate and I relished it. I've cursed myself," he said harshly, wanting her to go and leave him alone. He tried pulling away from her, but she kept a firm grip around his waist.

"You're not cursed," she whispered. "You did what you had to do, and deep down I know you didn't mean it. That kind of evil isn't inside you."

She didn't understand, and he didn't want her to comfort him. She deserved much better than him, someone twisted enough to have meant torturing someone. "I wouldn't take it back, Ginny. I'm... I'm glad I did it," he said finally, after a moment of tense quiet.

The silence in the room was agony to his ears, and he shut his eyes, not wanting to see any part of her in the reflection of the window. She was horrified, he knew; he was sick and horrifying and not worth her love, not worth any love.

Gently, he felt her turn her head and kiss his neck, causing a shiver to flee through him. "If you meant it, then that's that, and you'll just have to accept that about yourself. I can accept it; something like that isn't going to drive me away," she said quietly, breath brushing against his skin. "I think I would have done it myself, if I had been in that situation. She was pure evil, Harry, and hating someone like her would be normal for anyone, especially after all she's done to you."

"That doesn't make it better," he protested, keeping his eyes stubbornly closed. "It's not right to use an Unforgivable and mean it. It doesn't make me any better than a Death Eater."

"Don't you ever say that again," she ordered firmly. "The fact that you know it's wrong shows that you're more human than any Death Eater. If you weren't any better than them, you wouldn't be agonizing over this. That shows remorse for your actions and that's what makes the difference." She kissed his neck again, lips lingering on his skin. "I love you, Harry; there's nothing in you that would make you even remotely like a Death Eater, and I know it."

He inhaled sharply, opening his eyes to meet hers through the reflection in the glass. Her gaze was dark and bright, deep and warm for him, and it shook him. How he had gotten this kind of love from her, he was never going to know. He was all darkness and she was light and joy, and he didn't deserve her.

She smiled at him slightly, pressing a kiss to his skin again. "You're you, exactly who you're supposed to be, and I love you for it."

Something inside him snapped at that. "And who is that?" he demanded, turning around so his back was now pressed against the window and he was facing her. "I don't have an identity, I'm the Boy-Who-Lived, the man who defeated Voldemort! There's nothing left for me now, I don't have any kind of future."

She pushed at his shoulder, eyes now bright with anger. "And what about me? How am I supposed to react when you say things like this, how am I supposed to feel? Don't you want to be with me? Aren't I worth something?"

He shut his eyes, not wanting to see her face or her eyes or her hair; the brightness in her gaze scared him. Her sigh hit him harder than any punch, and he felt her step closer to him.

"You have to stop torturing yourself and living for everyone else," she said softly yet firmly, resting her hands on his chest. "This is your life now; you have to do what you want to do, nothing else. This is your chance to be happy, to finally live like a normal person, and you can't just give it up."

Opening his eyes, he met her dark gaze. "What if it's not over?" he asked quietly. "What if it starts all over again?"

Looking at him for a moment, she leaned up and kissed his forehead, lips lingering very lightly over his scar. "It's not your problem unless you make it your problem," she whispered. "It's time for you to start living."

Letting out a slow sigh, he tilted his head back against the window. "I don't know if I can," he said softly. "After everything, I still feel like I haven't accomplished anything."

She was silent for a moment, just looking up at him. One of her hands reached up to sift through his hair gently. "Remus, Sirius, and your parents thought you were wonderful, remember? They said that you were everything they could have hoped for," she said quietly. "Nothing about blame or fault; they knew it was their time, and they died without shame."

He looked down at her with a start. He had forgotten all about what his parents and their friends had said to him, forgotten how Sirius didn't blame him, and Remus looked happy, and his parents were proud of him...

Grief flooded him fully for the first time, and he nearly gasped at the power of it. He shut his eyes, bowing his head, and took a few deep breaths to try and calm himself, try to keep control. Her fingers traced the lines of his face, and he felt her lean her forehead against his own.

"Harry, just mourn them," she murmured softly. "You don't have to be strong anymore if you don't want to be."

Opening his eyes, he looked into her face, which looked ashen with worry. "It's not that easy, I can't just _feel_ these things like you can," he said, voice shaking slightly. "I don't _want_ to feel it."

She touched his face gently. "If you don't feel it, you won't ever move past it," she said sadly. "And I want you to move past it, to feel better about yourself."

His heart clenched, and he put his hands at her waist, pulling her closer to him. She felt so much for him, it was still almost unbelievable at times. He rested his cheek against her hair, taking comfort from her just being there. "I'll try, for you," he said almost inaudibly.

She sighed, her breath brushing his neck lightly. "That's enough for me," she said softly.

He held her a little closer to him, licking his lips briefly. He didn't want her to leave, not tonight; if he was alone right now, his thoughts would swallow him up and he'd drown in them. "Don't leave," he said, voice slightly hoarse.

Shifting her head, she looked up at him, smiling slightly. "I never will."

* * *

Hogwarts reopened to students almost three weeks after the battle, near the end of a bitter November. Those still at Hogwarts used the time off to any advantage; Ginny and Harry worked to catch up with their classes, and Ron and Hermione helped them and studied their own notes. Harry seemed to come out of his funk slowly yet surely; he began to talk, and while he wasn't a chatterbox, it was surprising and reassuring to hear him speak. It made her think that her words had helped him in some little way.

Hermione, ever progressive, began talking leaving Hogwarts and moving into the adult world. She seemed thrilled at the prospect of going into the Ministry, where she was looking to get a job in the Relations with Magical Creatures department. Ron, who was still serious about becoming an Auror, teased her relentlessly about all the house elves she was going to try to free, which she handled with great composure.

Worried that Harry was not participating in these discussions, Ginny tried to get him to talk about his own plans, but he was very tight-lipped. He seemed almost agitated when the topic came up, and she let it pass after a few tries, thinking he would tell her when he felt like it. That time came one night about a week before the students came back to school, when they were lying in his bed.

"Ginny?" he said softly, propping himself up on one elbow to look down at her.

She was still drowsy from their earlier activities, but she managed to open her eyes and look up at him with a soft smile. "Hmm?"

He bit his bottom lip in a way she found endearing before speaking. "Do you think about what you're going to do after Hogwarts?" he asked, blankets slipping off his shoulders to drape around his waist. Normally that would make her want to roll him over and snog him senseless, but she could feel something more somber behind his question.

"A little," she said, raising a curious eyebrow. "Why?"

Looking down at her carefully, he shrugged lightly. "Like what? What do you think you'll do?"

She was at a loss, and had to think about it for a moment. "I like the idea of teaching someday," she confessed. "But I think I'd like to go into the Ministry before I teach. My Muggle Studies grades might do well if I wanted to go into Muggle liaisons."

He was silent for a few moments, and the looks that passed through his eyes made her nervous as she waited for him to say something. She couldn't always tell what was going on in his mind, and sometimes she got very worried.

"In fifth year, I said I wanted to be an Auror," he said finally, sliding back to lie on his back and stare up at the ceiling. His face was shadowed by the flickering candlelight, making him seem almost like a ghost. "That seemed like my only option; Umbridge had banned me from Quidditch and I kept thinking about Sirius stuck in Grimmauld Place, and how I would have been able to track down Pettigrew and make him confess if I had been an Auror. Besides, I wasn't really good at anything else other than Defense," he muttered.

She propped herself up on his chest, looking down at him gently, not wanting to push him too far. "Do you still want to do that?" she asked softly, resting her hands on his chest.

His eyes flickered to hers, dark and flinted in the shadowed light. "I don't know. It's not so simple anymore. I think... I think I'd be a good Auror, if I tried, but the thought of having to face the same problems I've been facing since I was a baby isn't the most appealing," he said quietly as his hand came up to tangle in her hair.

Tilting her head slightly, she leaned down to kiss him lightly. "You should do something that will make you happy, Harry, and nothing else," she said firmly after she pulled back from his lips.

Eyes falling shut, he slipped his arm around her, pulling her closer down to him. "Am I being selfish if I do? People give up their dreams to do the right thing all the time. Why should I be any different?"

She buried her face in his neck, sighing softly. "Because you've done that your whole life, and you shouldn't have to anymore. You shouldn't become an Auror unless you know that's what you really want to do," she replied softly. "I'll support you no matter what, you know that."

His hand flexed at the small of her back, other fingers still twisting in her hair. "I know," he murmured. "But I really don't know what to do yet. Is that ok?"

He sounded like a lost child, and in some ways she thought he was one. Nodding against his neck, she wrapped her arms around his waist tightly. "Of course it's ok," she whispered.

* * *

The night of the students' return, the Great Hall was cheerfully lit with torches and candles; there was a festive, celebratory feeling in the air. Students were chatting quite happily, like a weight had disappeared from their shoulders, and even the professors were getting into the spirit. Ginny just sat with Harry and watched the feast with careful eyes, smiling and talking to others now and then. Harry was quite silent, but she didn't feel overwhelming negativity from him, so she wasn't too worried about him.

Of course, she _was_ worried about him. She was afraid that one day she would wake up and he would be all darkness again; she could feel it pulling at him whenever she was with him, and it made her never want to leave him alone. It scared her to think that she could lose the fight to keep him with her, and it made her fight all the harder; she wasn't about to be beaten again.

Near the end of the feast, Dumbledore stood up and the whole hall fell silent at that moment. He gazed at his students, catching Ginny's eye with a slight smile, before he cleared his throat. She felt Harry stiffen next to her, and she slipped his hand into hers, squeezing gently.

Dumbledore's smile widened at all those in the hall. "I am very pleased to be standing here before you today as a man who lives in a free world," he said, voice amplified to echo around the hall. "This school is opening again three weeks after a victory that saved the world as we know it, and it is a celebration indeed."

Murmurs of agreement rippled through the hall, and Ginny nodded slightly, glancing at Harry. He looked as he always did, masked and impassive, not wanting to be truly seen by anyone. She shifted closer to him on the bench, resting their joined hands on their touching knees and looking at him. He met her eyes and gave her a tiny smile, flexing his fingers against hers. She couldn't tell if his smile was forced or not, but she still returned it with one of her own.

Raising a hand, Dumbledore sent the room into silence again. "As we rejoice in the freedom we have longed for, we must remember all who fell for this day," he said somberly. "They are not a burden on our shoulders, but neither are they a simple notation in a history text. They are the men and women of our time, people that set the standards we must all live by."

Ginny licked her lips, thinking immediately of Remus and Sirius, and she knew Harry was thinking the same by the tight grip he had on her hand. The headmaster's eyes twinkled gently in the candlelight, and he glanced her and Harry's way. "Heroes live among us, surviving war and tragedy and learning to persevere. We all contributed to the victory, but there are those who did what needed to be done, regardless of the consequences. And they are the true heroes."

He let his gaze settle out among the students again, smiling just a little wider. "We must go forth in our daily lives with a new sense of appreciation of what we have. We have the ability to change the world for the better, and we must use this. You here are the future, and you have all learned tough lessons in your lives. These lessons will help shape the adults you are and will become. But you must always remember this time, always remember the sacrifices we made and the losses we went through to gain this newfound freedom. Live to the fullest, and keep the spirit of your fellow fighters with you always."

As he sat back down, every person rose to their feet and applauded, some wiping tears from their eyes. Ginny kept Harry's hand in hers as they stood together, and as she looked at him, she saw brightness in his eyes, a painful brightness that tore at her heart. Lifting her free hand, she brushed the angles of his face gently with her fingers, and he gave her a small, very raw smile, squeezing her hand tightly. She returned the squeeze, giving him a sad sort of smile. Her heart was still in pieces and she knew Harry's was, too. There was so much uncertainty in their lives right now, she was afraid of thinking too far ahead. She just had to concentrate in the moment, try and help Harry with his demons, and see if they could make a new life, free of the shackles of Voldemort.

It was going to be a long and hard battle.

* * *

_Author's Notes: So it's done, sort of. I'd like to thank everyone who gave me feedback, you don't know how much it meant to me. When I started all this back with **Exposure**, I had no idea that it would end like this. And while there are some things I'd love to go back and change, I'm overall very happy with where this went. I still regret killing Remus very much, but what's done is done. _

_This whole "universe" isn't quite over yet. How can it be, with all the angst I left you with? ;) Anyway, there will be a little more, in the form of one-shots that will show how Harry and Ginny go on from all this trauma. These will pop up sporadically as I feel the urge to write them, so keep a sharp eye!_

_Final thanks go to Anne, who has been with me since the beginning and helped me so much along the way (I can tell you that this would have been dropped long ago if it hadn't been for her constant encouragement), and to Joe, who's been my rock and been so wonderful to me. You two are the best betas and friends I could have wished for, and all this is for you._


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